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ASHESTIEL 



^ --' 




The Lay of 
The Last Minstrel 




COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY GINN AND COMPANY 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

515-7 



IK: 



53«'1 



GlNN AND COMPANY • PRO- 
PRIETORS • BOSTON • U.S.A. 

QEC -6 1915 

©GI.A4 167^8 



m 






CONTENTS 

PAGE 

INTRODUCTION vii 

AUTHOR'S PREFACE 3 

POEM 

INTRODUCTION 5 

CANTO FIRST 11 

CANTO SECOND 3 1 

CANTO THIRD 5 I 

CANTO FOURTH 7 1 

CANTO FIFTH 99 

CANTO SIXTH I 23 

NOTES 149 



[v] 



AshsstieL. 



Edinburgh 



Melrose to Edinburgh. ... 32 miles 
Melrose to Branksome ... 15 miles 
Branksome to Carlisle ... 35 miles 



COT 



"•'"Ijfe^ 



sMelrose/ 



HOME CASTLE^, 



^bbotsfofd^ 
fETTRicK Forest^ 



ji„N«%\'aii Casj 



£^b^#Eildon Hills 

^m^^^"^<!i^^-^^'^ Riddel/^ ^X^' 

'^-^ "^^^ ^ J^ ^V^^c Jedburgh 

^J-^TS ^^^WodshawTTill 
^|&|jt^tM^J/B|p"nde5^^; 






._ Crai^ 
Hazddean %,*^<ii 



la^^-^cK. i:^ %^''^ f »s-p\ \ ' 

nksome Carter reTk-^^j^^ ^ 




^ 



^v> 



Penton J^ O 



G L A ]S^ D 







o 

/Carlisle 



THE SCOTTISH BORDER 



INTRODUCTION 



I. ^^THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL" 



""^EW authors have had so adequate a preparation 
H for a particular undertaking as had Scott for 
writing ''The Lay of the Last Minstrel." The 
dominant interest of his early life had been the collec- 
tion of legends, ballads, and sayings of the days of 
Border warfare, the romantic period of Scottish his- 
tory, and he realized that unless these quaint relics of 
the past were put into a permanent form, they would 
in a few years be lost to the world. He therefore set 
himself earnestly to the task of transcribing the old 
ballads, rewriting those that were in mutilated form, 
and building up anew those that were mere fragments. 
A part of this interesting collection was published as 
'' The Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border," and is valu- 
able not only for the ballads which it presents but for 
its historical account of Border folklore. 

One of the rude, wild legends that Scott had at first 
intended to include in ''The Minstrelsy of the Scot- 
tish Border" was that of Gilpin Horner, an impish 
dwarf who possessed uncanny powers and was chictly 
concerned in stirring up mischief. Scott's biographer, 

[viij 



INTRODUCTION 

Lockhart, says that '' a single scene of feudal festivity 
in the hall of Branksome disturbed by some pranks 
of a nondescript goblin " was all that Scott had con- 
templated, but an injury received in a volunteer mili- 
tary camp confined him there for some time and 
'' gave him leisure to meditate his theme to the sound 
of the bugle ; and suddenly there flashes on him the 
idea of extending his simple outline, so as to embrace 
a vivid panorama of that old Border life of war and 
tumult, and all earnest passions." Thus the dwarf 
became only one of the features of the poem, or as 
Scott himself says, '' the dwarf . . . contrived ... to 
slink down stairs into the kitchen, and now he must 
abide there." The poem in its finished form was 
called ''The Lay of the Last Minstrel." It was pub- 
lished in Januar}^, 1805, and brought Scott instant 
fame. Some of his friends had discouraged the 
attempt of so unusual a task as the writing of a long 
romance in ballad form, but the result fully justified 
his own feelings. 

The supernatural is the prevailing element of this 
ballad, and keeps the reader in a state of wonder and 
suspense. A slender thread of a love stor}^ relieves 
the darker parts of the poem, and further interest is 
created by putting the narration into the mouth of 
an aged minstrel. This device has been called ''the 
happiest conception of the framework of a pictur- 
esque narrative that ever occurred to any poet — 
one that Homer might have envied." The minstrel's 

[viii] 



INTRODUCTION 

sentiments form the prologue and the epilogue to each 
of the six cantos, and thus the reader is constantly 
reminded that the tale is of the long ago. In one 
of the prologues Scott has given the celebrated de- 
scription of Melrose Abbey by moonlight, and in 
another that inspired apostrophe to his native land 
which is so familiar to us all. 

The poem is written in a meter that had not been 
used before in English. Coleridge had already in- 
vented it for his '' Lady Christabel," which was not 
then published, so that while '' The Lay of the Last 
Minstrel " has the distinction of being the first poem 
to appear in this form of verse, the credit for its 
introduction into English poetry does not belong to 
Scott. This meter lends itself easily to recitation, and 
fits well the idea that the poem is chanted to the ac- 
companiment of the vibrating notes of the minstrel's 
harp. Frequently the reader will discover a line over 
which the tongue trips, but this is because modern 
usage gives a different accent or syllabication from 
that of Scott's time. 

The scene of the Lay is the southeastern part of 
Scotland, where the river Tweed and the low-lying 
Cheviot Hills divide Scotland from Northumberland. 
The Borderers, both English and Scottish, lived the 
uncertain, stimulating life of marauders. The clans 
warred among themselves and with each other, the 
most trivial excuse being sufficient to inflame one 
clan to a deadly feud with another. The country was 

[ix] 



INTRODUCTION 

dotted with powerfully built castles, the seats of the 
chiefs of the clans, around which the Borderers rallied. 
There were also isolated peels, strongholds to which 
the clans could retire in time of danger. Even to-day 
picturesque ruins of these peels testify to the days 
when the hills resounded to the warlike notes of 
the bugle. 

In some respects the Border country of Scott's time 
was not unlike that of the days of the mosstroopers, 
who are the knights-errant of the Lay. '' The people 
had outlived the old Border traditions of raids and 
robberies, yet in the seclusion of their valleys they 
preserved many of the rough reckless manners of 
their ancestors. Scott has painted them, in ' Guy 
Mannering,' much as they lived under his own eyes. 
The wildness of the region, even at the end of the 
last century, may be gathered from the incidents of 
one of the poet's raids. His gig was the first wheeled 
carriage that had ever been seen in Liddesdale. There 
was no inn or public-house of any kind in the whole 
valley, which was accessible only through a succession 
of tremendous morasses. ' In the course of our grand 
tour, besides the risks of swamping and breaking our 
necks, we encountered the formidable hardships of 
sleeping upon peat-stacks, and eating mutton slain by 
no common butcher, but deprived of life by the judg- 
ment of God, as a coroner's inquest would express 
themselves.' Scott used to boast of being sheriff of 
the * cairn and the scaur,' and that he had strolled 



INTRODUCTION 

through the wild glens of Liddesdale, ' so often and 
so long, that he might say he had a home in every 
farmhouse.' 

'' The scenery of the Scottish borderland can lay 
claim to little grandeur. The hills are too bare to be 
beautiful, and too low to be very impressive. Still the 
wide tracts of black moss, the gray swells of moor 
rising into brown, round-backed hills, with here and 
there a stately cliff of sterner aspect, and the green 
pastures of the quiet glens, are not without their 
charm, in spite of the general bare and treeless char- 
acter of the landscape, which is at first apt to disap- 
point the visitor from the South. Washington Irving 
spoke of this disappointment to his host at Abbotsford. 
* Scott hummed for a moment to himself, and looked 
grave. ... ''It may be pertinacity," said he at length ; 
*' but to my eye, these gray hills and all this wild 
Border country have beauties peculiar to themselves. 
I like the very nakedness of the land ; it has some- 
thing bold, stern, and solitary about it. When I have 
been for some time in the rich scenery about Edin- 
burgh, which is like ornamented garden land, I begin 
to wish myself back again among my own honest gray 
hills ; and if I did not see the heather at least once 
a year, / think I should die I " The last words were 
said with an honest warmth, accompanied by a thump 
on the ground with his staff, by way of emphasis, that 
showed his heart was in his speech.' That Scott was 
quite sensible to the sort of melancholy awe inspired 

[xi] 



INTRODUCTION 

by some of the more savage parts of the country is 
shown (if other proof were not abundant in his poems 
and novels) in a passage in one of his letters. Speak- 
ing of the view from the top of Minchmoor, he says : 
' I assure you I have felt really oppressed with a sort 
of fearful loneliness) when looking around the naked 
towering ridges of desolate barrenness which is all the 
eye takes in from the top of such a mountain, the 
patches of cultivation being hidden in the little glens, 
or only appearing to make one feel how feeble and 
ineffectual man has been to contend with the genius 
of the soil. It is in such a scene that the unknown 
and gifted author of '' Albonia '' places the supersti- 
tion which consists in hearing the noise of a ''chase, 
the baying of the hounds, the throttling sobs of the 
deer, the wild halloos of the huntsmen, and the 

Hoof thick beating on the hollow hill." 
I have often repeated his verses with some sensations 
of awe in this place.' As far as his own estate was 
concerned, he did much by his plantations to cover 
the nakedness of the land, and his precept and exam- 
ple also helped to make planting fashionable among 
his neighbors." ^ 

1 " The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott," edited by F. T. 
Palgrave, pp. 5-6. 



[xii] 



INTRODUCTION 

II. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 

Sir Walter Scott was a lineal descendant of the 
Walter Scott known to Border history as Auld Watt of 
Harden, who is commemorated in '' The Lay of the Last 
Minstrel." He was born August 15, 1771, in Edin- 
burgh, the ninth of twelve children, six of whom died 
in infancy. Before he was two years old he was the vic- 
tim of an illness which ended in a life-long lameness 
but which did not otherwise affect his health. As a 
boy and a young man he was as rugged and vigorous 
as any of his companions with whom he scoured the 
hills. In his childhood he lived much of the time 
with his grandfather at Sandy-Knowe, a spot full of 
traditions of Border warfare and superstition. It was 
here that he first heard the legends which so fasci- 
nated him and were later to prove a deciding factor 
in his life work. Like many another boy who became 
a famous author, he was too imaginative to make a 
model pupil at school. He enjoyed the companionship 
of the boys, and because he joined eagerly in their 
frolics, was always a great favorite, but in his studies 
he did only indifferently well. 

After leaving the high school at Edinburgh, he was 
sent to a school at Kelso. Of these student days Scott 
has written : '' I, with a head on fire for chivalr}', 
was a Cavalier ; my friend was a Roundhead ; I was a 
Tory, and he was a Whig ; I hated Presbyterians, and 
admired Montrose with his victorious Highlanders; 

[ xiii ] 



INTRODUCTION 

he liked the PresbUerian Ulysses, the deep and politic 
Argylt ; so that we never wanted subjects of dispute, 
but our disputes were always amicable. ... In all 
these tenets there was no real conviction on my part, 
arising out of acquaintance with the views or principles 
of either party. ... I took up politics at that period, 
as King Charles II did his religion, from an idea that 
the Cavalier creed was the more gentlemanlike per- 
suasion of the two." 

When, at the age of sixteen, Scott was studying 
law as an apprentice to his father, he had an attack 
of hemorrhage, and during the illness that followed ab- 
solute silence was imposed on him — two old women 
sitting with him constantly and putting their fingers 
on their lips whenever he offered to speak. This was 
a difficult experience for the stor}'-loving youth, but 
deprived of the privilege of talking he began to study 
the scenic side of history, — battles and invasions, — 
which he worked out with shells, seeds, and pebbles. 
As a further diversion in his illness he had the looking- 
glasses of his bedroom so arranged that from his bed 
he could see the troops march out to exercise in the 
meadows. At this time, as in later years, he was an 
insatiable reader, and seemed to have the power to 
remember in accurate detail whatever interested him. 

In spite of the fact that Scott had no particular 
yearnings for the law profession, he pursued his legal 
studies with considerable regularity. One of his biog- 
raphers has said that notwithstanding all his love of 

[xiv] 



INTRODUCTION 

excitement, he became ''a sound lawyer, and might 
have been a great lawyer, had not his pride of charac- 
ter, the impatience of his genius, and the stir of his 
imagination rendered him indisposed to wait and slave 
in the precise manner which the prepossessions of 
solicitors appoint." ^ But in leaving the legal profes- 
sion for that of letters, Scott made no mistake ; in the 
former he would have been only one able lawyer 
among thousands of equally able men ; in literature 
he had few equals. 

Before he was thirty years old he married a Made- 
moiselle Charpentier, the daughter of a French royal- 
ist of Lyons, who had come to England after her 
father's death. Miss Carpenter, as she was usually 
called, was lively and beautiful, but had no great depth 
of character and was not particularly suited to be the 
wife of a genius like Scott. Scott's married life, how- 
ever, was by no means an unhappy one. His nature 
w^as too sunny and optimistic to let anything make 
him fretful or morose. 

His first great literary success was ''The Minstrelsy 
of the Scottish Border," published in 1802. The bal- 
lads of this collection became instantly popular and 
were learned and recited all over England and Scot- 
land. Certain stanzas from one of these ringing tales 
made such a strong impression on Thomas Campbell, 
the poet, that he could not banish them from his 
mind. " I have repeated tlicsc lines so often on the 

1 Richard II. Ilutton's " Sir Walter Scott." 
LxvJ 



INTRODUCTION 

North Bridge," he said, ''that the whole fraternity of 
coachmen know me by tongue as I pass. To be sure, 
to a mind in sober, serious, street-walking humor, it 
must bear an appearance of lunacy when one stamps 
w^ith the hurried pace and fervent shake of the head, 
which strong, pithy poetr}' excites."^ 

''The Lay of the Last Minstrel" was Scott's next 
great work and brought him both fame and money. 
This was written at his beautiful home known as 
Ashestiel, an estate on the southern bank of the 
Tweed, a few miles from Selkirk. Three years later, 
his greatest poem, " IMarmion," was published. How 
active a life Scott led, all his life through, cannot 
better be illustrated than by citing the fact that 
" Marmion " was chiefly composed in the saddle. It 
is no wonder that the stir of a charge of cavalry 
breathes through the lines of the poem ! Scott never 
allowed his literar}' tasks to confine him to his study. 
The greater part of his life was lived in the open, 
among the hills and the humble people whose homes 
dotted their sides. 

The Waverley novels, known the world over, com- 
prise Scott's best fiction work, the name being taken 
from that of the first of the series, "Waverley." These 
novels — " Ivanhoe," "Old Mortality," "The Anti- 
quary," "Rob Roy," "The Heart of Midlothian," 
" The Abbot," etc. — were composed in rapid succes- 
sion and with apparent ease. The last two volumes 

1 Lockhart's *' Life of Scott," Vol. II, p. 79. 
[xvi] 



INTRODUCTION 

of '' Waverley " are said to have been written in three 
weeks. Such speed seems almost incredible for works 
so packed with description and historical incident, but 
Scott's mind was a veritable treasure house of memo- 
ries from which he could draw at a moment's notice. 
These novels are full of the romantic excitement of 
picturesque scenes and historical incidents which he 
loved. He had to write of big things. That he recog- 
nized this he showed by his remark concerning Miss 
Austen — '' The big bow-wow strain I can do myself, 
like any now going, but the exquisite touch which 
renders ordinary commonplace things and characters 
interesting, from the truth of the description and the 
sentiment, is denied to me." 

The only episode in Scott's life that can properly 
be called unfortunate was his partnership with his pub- 
lishers, the Ballantynes. They were unable to make 
the publishing business successful and the copyrights 
were bought by Constable, who failed in 1826, involv- 
ing Scott to the amount of about ^600,000. From 
this time until his death the novelist worked steadily 
to pay off these obligations, bravely shouldering a 
burden which a less noble nature would have shirked. 
What made this attempt particularly difficult was that 
it meant the giving up for a time of his almost pala- 
tial home, Abbotsford, upon which he had lavished not 
only large sums of money but thoughts and drc^inis 
and hopes, l^he real Scott as the simple good man is 
touchingly proved to us by the attitude toward him of 



INTRODUCTION 

his servants after this financial loss. Mr. Lockhart ^ 
writes : '' The butler, instead of being the easy chief 
of a large establishment, was now doing half the work 
of the house at probably half his former wages. Old 
Peter, who had been for five and twenty years a dig- 
nified coachman, was now ploughman in ordinary, only 
putting his horses to the carriage upon high and rare 
occasions ; and so on with all the rest that remained 
of the ancient train. And all, to my view, seemed 
happier than they had ever done before." 

During the last years of his life that Scott devoted 
to the struggle to pay off his obligations much new 
work was produced that yielded generous returns, and 
successful new editions of many of his earlier works 
were prepared. For these Scott wrote extended intro- 
ductions, which w^ere in reality intimate accounts of 
his life, and he also made some slight alterations and 
revisions in the texts, which helped to authenticate 
and popularize these new editions. '' The Lay of the 
Last Minstrel " was published in this way in 183 1, and 
it is from that edition that the text of the present 
one is taken. The notes which follow the text are 
chiefly abridged from Scott's, having been put into 
the briefest form possible, as their purpose is merely 
to assist in reading the poem understandingly. 

In spite of illness Scott kept to his literary work 
almost to the day of his death, which came Sep- 
tember 21, 1832. He died at Abbotsford, the scene 

1 Lockhart's " Life of Scott," Vol. IX, p. 170. 
[ xviii ] 



INTRODUCTION 

of his greatest happiness and his great sorrow. What 
were almost his last words might be his epitaph : " 13e 
a good man, — be virtuous, — be religious, — be a 
good man. Nothing else will give you any comfort 
when you come to be here." 



Nix I 



TO 
THE RIGHT HONORABLE 

CHARLES, EARL OF DALKEITH 

THIS POEM 
IS INSCRIBED BY THE AUTHOR 



THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE' 



^HE Poem now offered to the public is intended to 
illustrate the customs and manners which anciently 
Ji« prevailed on the Borders of England and Scotland. 
The inhabitants, living in a state partly pastoral and partly 
warlike, and combining habits of constant depredation with 
the influence of a rude spirit of chivalry, were often engaged 
in scenes highly susceptible of poetical ornament. As the 
description of scenery and manners was more the object 
of the Author than a combined and regular narrative, the 
plan of the ancient metrical romance was adopted, which 
allows greater latitude in this respect than would be con- 
sistent with the dignity of a regular poem. The same model 
offered other facilities, as it permits an occasional alteration 
of measure, which, in some degree, authorizes the changes 
of rhythm in the text. The machinery also, adopted from 
popular belief, would have seemed puerile in a Poem 
which did not partake of the rudeness of the old Jkillad, 
or Metrical Romance. 

For these reasons, the Poem was put into the mouth of 
an ancient Minstrel, the last of the race, who, as he is sup- 
posed to have survived the Revolution, might have caught 
somewhat of the refinement of modern ])octry, without 
losing the simplicity of his original model. 'Vhv date of the 
tale itself is about the niiddle of the sixleeiUh eeiUur\-, 
when most of the {personages actually flourished. The time 
occuj)ied by the action is three nights and three da\s. 



THE LAY OF THE LAST 
MINSTREL 

INTRODUCTION 



^^HE way was long, the wind was cold, 
The Minstrel was infirm and old ; 
His wither'd cheek, and tresses gray, 

Seem'd to have known a better day ; 

The harp, his sole remaining joy. 

Was carried by an orphan boy. 

The last of all the Bards was he, 

AVho sung of Border chivalry ; 

For, welladay ! their date was fled, 

His tuneful brethren all were dead ; 

And he, neglected and opprcss'd, 

Wish'd to be with them, and at rest. 

No more on prancing palfrey borne. 

He caroll'd, light as lark at morn ; 

No longer courted and caress'd. 

High placed in hall, a welcome guest. 

He pour'd, to lord and lady gay. 

The unpremeditated lay : 

Old times were changed, old manners gone ; 

A stranger lilTd the Stuarts* throne ; 

[5] 



THE LAY OF 

The bigots of the iron time 
Had caU'd his harmless art a crime. 
A wandering Harper, scorn'd and poor, 
He begg'd his bread from door to door, 
And tuned, to please a peasant's ear. 
The harp, a king had loved to hear. 

He pass'd where Newark's stately tower 
Looks out from Yarrow's birchen bower : 
The Minstrel gazed with wishful eye — 
No humbler resting-place was nigh : 
With hesitating step at last. 
The embattled portal arch he pass'd, 
AMiose ponderous grate and massy bar 
Had oft roll'd back the tide of war, 
But never closed the iron door 
Against the desolate and poor. 
The Duchess marked his weaiy pace, 
LI is timid mien, and reverend face. 
And bade her page the menials tell. 
That they should tend the old man well : 
For she had known adversity. 
Though born in such a high degree ; 
Li pride of power, in beaut}^'s bloom. 
Had wept o'er ^Monmouth's bloody tomb ! 

When kindness had his wants supplied, 
And the old man was gratified, 
Began to rise his minstrel pride : 

[6] 



THE LAST MINSTREL 

And he began to talk anon, 

Of good Earl Francis, dead and gone, 

And of Earl Walter, rest him, God ! 

A braver ne'er to battle rode ; 

And how full many a tale he knew, 

Of the old warriors of Buccleuch : 

And, would the noble Duchess deign 

To listen to an old man's strain. 

Though stiff his hand, his voice though weal 

He thought even yet, the sooth to speak, 

That, if she loved the harp to hear. 

He could make music to her ear. 

The humble boon was soon obtain 'd ; 
The Aged Minstrel audience gain'd. 
But, when he reach 'd the room of state, 
Where she, with all her ladies, sate, 
Perchance he wish'd his boon denied : 
For, when to tunc his harp he tried, ^ 
His trembling hand had lost the ease. 
Which marks security to please ; 
And scenes, long past, of joy and piun. 
Came wilclering o'er Ins aged brain — 
He tried to tune his har]) in vain ! 
The pitying Duchess ])raisc(l its chime. 
And gave him liearl, :in(l gave him lime. 
Till every string's acx^ording glee 
Was blended into h;irm()n\". 
And (hen, he said, he would lull l.iin 



THE LAY OF 

He could recall an ancient strain, 

He never thought to sing again. 

It was not framed for village churls, 

But for high dames and mighty earls ; 

He had play'd it to King Charles the good, 

When he kept court in Holyrood ; 

And much he wish'd, yet fear'd, to try 

The long-forgotten melody. 

Amid the strings his fingers stray'd. 

And an uncertain warbling made. 

And oft he shook his hoary head. 

But when he caught the measure wild. 

The old man raised his face, and smiled ; 

And lighten 'd up his faded eye. 

With all a poet's ecstasy ! 

In varying cadence, soft or strong, 

He swept the sounding chords along : 

The present scene, the future lot, 

His toils, his wants, were all forgot : 

Cold diffidence, and age's frost, 

In the full tide of song were lost ; 

Each blank, in faithless memory void, 

The poet's glowing thought supplied ; 

And, while his harp responsive rung, 

'T was thus the Latest Mi7istrel sung. 



[8] 



OUTLINE OF CANTO FIRST 

This canto at once introduces the reader to Branksome 
Castle, which is the scene of most of the events of the 
minstrel's lay. A feast is taking place in the great hall 
where the attendant knights, squires, yeomen, and others 
are making merry. Because of the death of Lord Walter, 
the chief of Branksome, who vvas slain in combat with the 
Kerrs, his Lady rules in his stead. The Lady of Brank- 
some, who had learned from her father the mystic art of 
spirit communication, withdraws from the feast to consult 
with the spirits of the earth and air as to the fate of her 
house. She hears the unearthly voices decree that good 
fortune will not come to the house of Branksome until 
she consents to the marriage of her fair young daughter, 
Margaret, to Lord Cranstoun, who is deeply in love with 
her and whom Margaret loves, but with w^hom Margaret's 
family has a deadly feud. 

The Lady Branksome, vowing within herself that Mar- 
garet shall never be her '' foeman's bride," hastens from 
her chamber to the great hall where the feast has taken 
place and where her only son, a mere child, is playing with 
the warriors. She calls the bravest of these — \A'illiam of 
Deloraine — aside, and orders him to the saddle to bring 
from the monk at Melrose Abbey a magic book that is 
buried in the grave of a wizard named Michael Scott. From 
this book she expects to learn secrets which w^ill enable her 
to bring good fortune to her house without the hated mar- 
riage. Deloraine is soon in the saddle and rides at break- 
neck speed over rill and dale, and reaches the Abbey a 
litde after midnight. 

[lo] 














-^^f^P^'^^ ,,:,ir^^» "f" ' 




CANTO FIRST 



"^HE feast was over in Branksome tower, 

And the Ladye had gone to her secret bower ; 
Her bower that was guarded byword and by spell, 
Deadly to hear, and deadly to tell — 
Jesu Maria, shield us well ! 
No living wight, save the Ladye alone. 
Had dared to cross the threshold stone. 

II 

The tables were drawn, it was idlesse all ; 

Knight, and page, and household scjiiire, 
Loiter'd through the lofty hall. 

Or crowded round the ample fire : 
The stag-hounds, weary with the chase, 

Lay stretch'd upon the rush\' (loor, 
And urged, in dreams, the forest race, 

Vvom Teviot-stone to l^skdale-moor. 

L" J 



TIE LAY OF [CaxtoI 

ni 

Xine-and-iwent^ kni^ts of fame 

Hung tfadr ^iklds in Blanks :: t Hi'. : 
Nine-and-twenfy squires of name 

Bioo^^t than tfadr steeds to bowser foxn stall ; 
Mine-and-twenty yecHnen tall 
Waited, duteoos, cm tfaem aD : 
They neie all knigfats of mettle tiue. 
Kinsmen to Ae bold Buccleoch. 

IV 

Ten of tfaon weie dieatfaed in steel. 
With bdted swixd, and spar cm heel : 
They quitted not their harness Ixigfat, 
Mdlfaer hy day, ncH" yet by nig^t : 

Th^ lay donu to rest, 

Widi ocHTslet laced, 
PiDopr'd cm buckler cxAd and haid ; 

Th^ carved at the meal 

Witfa g^ves erf sted. 
And tli^ drank tfae red wine through the hdmet bair'cL 



Ten squires, ten yeomen, maitdad men. 
Waited the hedk erf the warders ten ; 
Thiity steeds, both fleet and wig^t, 
Stcx)d saddled in staUe day and in^bt, 
Baibed witfa frcmtlet of sted, I tiow. 
And witfa Jedwcx)d-axe at sadcfldxiw ; 

[12] 



gg^^^g^^g^^C'ygg^tysaa^asazsgaa^ai^^ 



■'M^ 











ii\iiitsiXisas)seiKiHS^Bt^^ 




THE LAY OF [Canto I 

A hundred more fed free in stall : — 
Such was the custom of Branksome-Hall. 

VI 

Why do these steeds stand ready dight ? 
Why watch these warriors, arm'd, by night ? — 
They watch, to hear the bloodhound baWng ; 
Thev watch, to hear the war-horn bravins^ ; 
To see St. George's red cross streaming, 
To see the midnight beacon gleaming : 
They watch, against Southern force and guile, 
Lest Scroop, or Howard, or Percy's powers, 
Threaten Branksome's lordly towers. 
From Warkworth, or Xaworth, or mern* Carlisle. 

vn 

Such is the custom of Branksome-Hall. — 

Many a valiant knight is here ; 
But he, the chieftain of them all, 
His sword hangs rusting on the wall, 
Beside his broken spear. 

Bards long shall tell, 

How Lord Walter fell ! 

When startled burghers fled, afar, 

The furies of the Border war ; 

When the streets of high Dunedin 

Saw lances gleam, and falchions redden, 

And heard the slogan's deadly yell — 

Then the Chief of Branksome fell. 



Canto I] T H E L A S T M I N S T R E L 

VIII 

Can piety the discord heal, 

Or stanch the death-feud's enmity ? 
Can Christian lore, can patriot zeal, 

Can love of blessed charity ? 
No ! vainly to each holy shrine, 

In mutual pilgrimage they drew ; 
Implored, in vain, the grace divine 

For chiefs, their own red falchions slew ; 
While Cessford owns the rule of Carr, 

While Ettrick boasts the line of Scott, 
The slaughter'd chiefs, the mortal jar. 
The havoc of the feudal war, 

Shall never, never be forgot ! 

IX 

In sorrow o'er Lord Walter's bier 
The warlike foresters had bent ; 

And many a flower, and many a tear. 
Old Teviot's maids and matrons lent : 

But o'er her warrior's bloody bier 

The Ladye dropp'd nor flower nor tear ! 
Vengeance, deep-brooding o'er the slain, 
Had lock'd the source of softer woe ; 

And burning pride, and high disdain. 
Forbade the rising tear to flow ; 

Until, amid his sorrowing clan, 

Her son lisj^d from the nurse's knee — 

l>5] 



THE LAY OF [Canto I 

'' And if I live to be a man, 
My father's death revenged shall be ! " 
Then fast the mother's tears did seek 
To dew the infant's kindling cheek. 

X 

All loose her negligent attire 

All loose her golden hair, 
Hung Margaret o'er her slaughter'd sire, 

And v^ept in wild despair. 
But not alone the bitter tear 

Had filial grief supplied ; 
For hopeless love, and anxious fear, 

Had lent their mingled tide : 
Nor in her mother's alter'd eye 
Dared she to look for sympathy. 

Her lover, 'gainst her father's clan, 

With Carr in arms had stood, 
When Mathouse-burn to Melrose ran. 

All purple with their blood ; 
And well she knew, her mother dread, 
Before Lord Cranstoun she should wed, 
Would see her on her dying bed. 

XI 

Of noble race the Ladye came. 
Her father was a clerk of fame. 

Of Bethune's line of Picardie : 
He learn'd the art that none may name, 

In Padua, far beyond the sea, 
[i6] 



Canto I] THE LAST MINSTREL 

Men said, he changed his mortal frame 

By feat of magic mystery ; 
For when, in studious mood, he paced 

St. Andrew's cloister'd hall. 
His form no darkening shadow traced 

Upon the sunny wall ! 

XII 

And of his skill, as bards avow, 

He taught that Ladye fair, 
Till to her bidding she could bow 

The viewless forms of air. 
And now she sits in secret bower, 
In old Lord David's western tow^er. 
And listens to a heavy sound. 
That moans the mossy turrets round. 
Is it the roar of Teviot's tide. 
That chafes against the scaur's red side ? 
Is it the wind, that swings the oaks ? 
Is it the echo from the rocks ? 
What may it be, the heavy sound, 
That moans old Branksome's turrets round ? 

XIII 

At the sullen, moaning sound, 
The ban-dogs bay and howl ; 

And, from the turrets round, 
Loud wh()()|)s the startled owl. 

[n the hall, both s(|uire :iiul knii;lit 
Swore that a storm was neai', 

I n I 



THE LAY OF [Canto 1 

And looked forth to view the night ; 
But the ni^ht was still and clear ! 



XIV 

From the sound of Teviot's tide, 
Chafing with the mountain's side, 
From the groan of the wind-s^Mjng oak, 

From the sullen echo of the rock, 
From the voice of the coming storm, 

The Ladye knew it well 1 
It was the Spirit of the Flood that spoke 

And he called on the Spirit of the Fell. 

XV 
River Spirit 
" Sleep'st thou, brother ? " — 

Mountain Spirit 

— " Brother, nay 
On my hills the moon-beams play. 
From Craik-cross to Skelfhill-pen, 
Bv even* rill, in ever}' glen, 

]\Ierry elves their morris pacing, 
To aerial minstrelsy, 
Emerald rings on brown heath tracing, 

Trip it deft and merrily. 
Up, and mark their nimble feet ! 
Up, and list their music sweet ! " 
[i8] 



Canto I] THE LAST MINSTREL 

XVI 
Rive7' Spirit 

'' Tears of an imprison'd maiden 
Mix with my polluted stream ; 

Margaret of Branksome, sorrow-laden, 
Mourns beneath the moon's pale beam. 

Tell me, thou, who view'st the stars. 

When shall cease these feudal jars ? 

What shall be the maiden's fate ? 

Who shall be the maiden's mate ? " 

XVII 
Mountain Spirit 

''Arthur's slow wain his course doth roll. 
In utter darkness round the pole ; 
The Northern Bear lowers black and grim 
Orion's studded belt is dim ; 
Twinkling faint, and distant far. 
Shimmers through mist each planet star ; 

111 may I read their high decree ! 
But no kind influence deign they shower 
On Teviot's tide, and Branksome's tower, 

Till pride be quell 'd, and love be free." 

XVIII 

The unearthly voices ceast, 

And the heavy sound was still ; 

I "> 1 



THE LAY OF [Canto I 

It died on the river's breast. 

It died on the side of the hill. 
But round Lord David's tower 

The sound still floated near ; 
For it rung in the I^adye's bower, 

And it rung in the Ladye's ear. 
She raised her stately head, 

And her hean throbb'd high with pride : — 
" Your mountains shall bend, 
And your streams ascend. 

Ere ^Margaret be our foeman's bride ! " 

XIX 

The Ladye sought the lofty hall. 

Where many a bold retainer lay. 
And, with jocund din, among them all, 

Her son pursued his infant play. 
A fancied moss-trooper, the boy 

The truncheon of a spear bestrode, 
And round the hall, right merrily. 

In mimic foray rode. 
Even bearded knights, in arms gro\\Ti old, 

Share in his frolic gambols bore. 
Albeit their hearts of rugged mold, 

Were stubborn as the steel they wore. 
For the gray warriors prophesied. 

How the brave boy, in future war. 
Should tame the L'nicom's pride, 

Exalt the Crescent and the Star. 

[20] 



Canto I] THE LAST MINSTREL 

XX 

The Ladye forgot her purpose high, 

One moment, and no more ; 
One moment gazed with a mother's eye. 

As she paused at the arched door : 
Then from amid the armed train, 
She caird to her WilHam of Deloraine. 

XXI 

A stark moss-trooping Scott was he. 

As e'er couch'd Border lance by knee : 

Through Solway sands, through Tarras moss, 

Bhndfold, he knew the paths to cross ; 

By wily turns, by desperate bounds, 

Had baffled Percy's best bloodhounds ; 

In Eske or Liddel, fords were none. 

But he would ride them, one by one ; 

Alike to him was time or tide, 

December's snow, or July's pride ; 

Alike to him was tide or time. 

Moonless midnight, or matin prime ! 

Steady of heart, and stout of hand, 

As ever drove prey from Cumberland ; 

VWc times outlawed had he been, 

By England's King, and Scotland's ( hiccn. 

X x 1 1 

*' Sir William of Deloraine, good at uca]. 
Mount thee on the wii^htcst steed ; 

I -M I 



THE LAY OF [Canto I 

Spare not to spur, nor stint to ride, 
Until thou come to fair Tweedside ; 
And in Melrose's holy pile 
Seek thou the Monk of St. Mary's aisle. 
Greet the Father well from me ; 

Say that the fated hour is come, 
And to-night he shall watch with thee, 

To win the treasure of the tomb : 
For this will be St. Michael's night, 
And, though stars be dim, the moon is bright ; 
And the Cross, of bloody red. 
Will point to the grave of the mighty dead. 

XXIII 

*' What he gives thee, see thou keep ; 

Stay not thou for food or sleep : 

Be it scroll, or be it book. 

Into it, Knight, thou must not look ; 

If thou readest, thou art lorn ! 

Better had'st thou ne'er been born." — 

XXIV 

'' O swiftly can speed my dapple-gray steed, 

Which drinks of the Teviot clear ; 
Ere break of day," the Warrior 'gan say, 

'' Again will I be here : 
And safer by none may thy errand be done, 

Than, noble dame, by me ; 
Letter nor line know I never a one. 

Were 't my neck-verse at Hairibee." 




.-1 






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THE LAY OF [Caxto I 

XXV 
Soon in his saddle sate he fast, 
And soon the steep descent he past, 
Soon cross'd the sounding barbican, 
And soon the Teviot side he won. 
Eastward the wooded path he rode. 
Green hazles o'er his basnet nod ; 
He pass'd the Peel of Goldiland, 
And cross'd old Borthwick's roaring strand ; 
Dimly he view'd the Moat-hill's mound. 
Where Druid shades still flitted round : 
In Hawick twinkled many a light ; 
Behind him soon they set in night : 
And soon he spurr'd his courser keen 
Beneath the tower of Hazeldean. 

XXVI 

The clattering hoofs the watchmen mark ; — 
'' Stand, ho ! thou courier of the dark." — 
" For Branksome, ho ! " the knight rejoin 'd, 
And left the friendly tower behind. 

He turn'd him now from Teviotside, 
And, guided by the tinkling rill. 

Northward the dark ascent did ride. 
And gained the moor at Horsliehill : 
Broad on the left before him lay. 
For many a mile, the Roman way. 

XXVII 

A moment now he slack'd his speed, 
A moment breathed his panting steed ; 

[24] 



Canto I] THE LAST MINSTREL 

Drew saddle-girth and corslet-band, 
And loosen'd in the sheath his brand. 
On Minto-crags the moon-beams glint, 
Where Barnhill hew'd his bed of flint ; 
Who flung his outlawed limbs to rest. 
Where falcons hang their giddy nest, 
Mid cliffs, from whence his eagle eye 
For many a league his prey could spy ; 
Cliffs, doubling, on their echoes borne. 
The terrors of the robber's horn ; 
Cliffs, which, for many a later year, 
The warbling Doric reed shall hear, 
When some sad swain shall teach the grove, 
Ambition is no cure for love ! 

XXVIII 

Unchallenged, thence pass'd Deloraine 
To ancient Riddel's fair domain. 

Where Aill, from mountains freed, 
Down from the lakes did raving come ; 
Each wave was crested with tawny foam, 

Like the mane of a chestnut steed. 
In vain ! no torrent, deep or broad, 
Might bar the bold moss-trooper's road. 

XXIX 

At the first plunge the horse sunk low. 
And the water broke o'er tlie sachnebow : 
Above the foaming tide, I weeu, 
Scarce half the charger's neck was seen ; 

[ -'5 J 



THE LAY OF [Canto I 

For he was barded from counter to tail, 

And the rider was armed complete in mail ; 

Never heavier man and horse 

Stemm'd a midnight torrent's force. 

The warrior's very plume, I say. 

Was daggled by the dashing spray ; 

Yet, through good heart, and Our Ladye's grace, 

At length he gain'd the landing place. 

XXX 

Now Bowden Moor the march-man won, 
And sternly shook his plumed head. 

As glanced his eye o'er Halidon ; 
For on his soul the slaughter red 

Of that unhallow'd morn arose, 

When first the Scott and Carr were foes ; 

When royal James beheld the fray. 

Prize to the victor of the day ; 

When Home and Douglas, in the van. 

Bore down Buccleuch's retiring clan. 

Till gallant Cessford's heart-blood dear 

Reek'd on dark Elliot's Border spear. 

XXXI 

In bitter mood he spurred fast. 
And soon the hated heath was past ; 
And far beneath, in lustre wan, 
Old Melros' rose, and fair Tweed ran : 
Like some tall rock with lichens gray, 
Seem'd dimly huge, the dark Abbaye. 

[26] 



THE LAY OF [Canto I 

When Hawick he pass'd, had curfew rung, 

Now midnight lauds were in Melrose sung. 

The sound, upon the fitful gale, 

In solemn wise did rise and fail, 

Like that wild harp, whose mag"c tone 

Is waken 'd by the winds alone. 

But when Melrose he reach'd, 'twas silence all ; 

He meetly stabled his steed in stall, 

And sought the convent's lonely wall. 

Here paused the harp ; and with its swell 
The Master's fire and courage fell : 
Dejectedly, and low, he bow'd. 
And, gazing timid on the crowd, 
He seem'd to seek, in every eye, 
If they approved his minstrelsy ; 
And, diffident of present praise. 
Somewhat he spoke of former days. 
And how old age, and wand 'ring long, 
Had done his hand and harp some wTong. 
The Duchess, and her daughters fair. 
And every gentle lady there. 
Each after each, in due degree. 
Gave praises to his melody ; 
His hand was true, his voice was clear, 
And much they long'd the rest to hear. 
Encouraged thus, the Aged Man, 
After meet rest, again began. 

[28] 



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OUTLINE OF CANTO SECOND 

The minstrel describes the Abbey as it would appear to 
one viewing the ruins by moonlight, but hastens to say that 
William of Deloraine sees little of the beauty around him. 
His knock summons the porter, who conducts him at once 
to the Monk, an ancient priest, who himself, in his youth, 
had been a warrior and fought in Spain and Italy. Half 
regretfully and half reprovingly, as he seats himself beside 
the knight, he tells him of his adventures in foreign lands. 
It was in a far country that he had met the famed wizard, 
Michael Scott, who, when dying, summoned him to take 
his Mighty Book, w^hich contained the secrets of evil spirits 
as well as of good, and keep it hid from mortal eyes. This 
book was never to be brought to light except at the need 
of the chief of Branksome, and was then swiftly to be 
returned to its hiding place. The wizard and his book had 
been buried in Melrose Abbey, and only at the stroke of 
one could the grave be opened. 

As the bell tolls one the knight with fear and awe opens 
the grave of the wizard, from whom a strange light shines, 
and takes the mystic book. The Monk urges him to hide 
this in his bosom and make all speed until he reaches 
Branksome Tower. In great terror the knight mounts and 
hastens back with no adventure until he reaches the green- 
wood near the Castle. Here in the early morning Margaret 
has secretly met her lover. Lord Cranstoun, the Baron's 
elfish dwarf keeping watch in the distance. It is this queer, 
waspish attendant dwarf who first hears the approach of 
the returning Deloraine and gives the alarm to the lovers. 

[30] 




■iiii"|i'"i;:iiiii- 



-A,„ll.i .ilwSi|i|i|«!t.: .iu,a,.y.«i:.-.. *-d.i , 



CANTO SECOND 



I 

1^^ THOU would'st view fair Melrose aright, 
Go visit it by the pale moonlight ; 
For the gay beams of lightsome day 
Gild, but to flout, the ruins gray. 
When the broken arches are black in night 
And each shafted oriel glimmers wliite ; 
When the cold light's uncertain shower 
Streams on the ruin'd central tower ; 
When buttress and buttress, alternately, 
Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; 
When silver edges the imagery. 
And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die ; 
When distant Tweed is heard to ra\e. 
And the owlet lo liool o'er the (k^ad man's gi"a\e, 
'Jlien go — but go alone (he while — 
Then view St. HaNid's niin'd pile; 



THE LAY OF [Caxto II 

And, home returning, soothly swear, 
Was never scene so sad and fair ! 

II 

Short halt did Deloraine make there ; 

Little reck'd he of the scene so fair : 

With dagger's hilt, on the wicket strong, 

He struck full loud, and struck full long. 

The porter hurried to the gate — 

"Who knocks so loud, and knocks so late?" — 

'' From Branksom.e I," the warrior cried ; 

And straight the wicket open'd wide : 

For Branksome's Chiefs had in battle stood. 

To fence the rights of fair Melrose ; 
And lands and livings, many a rood. 

Had gifted the shrine for their souls' repose. 

Ill 

Bold Deloraine his errand said ; 

The porter bent his humble head ; 

With torch in hand, and feet unshod, 

And noiseless step, the path he trod : 

The arched cloister, far and wide, 

Rang to the warrior's clanking stride 

Till, stooping low his lofty crest, 

He enter 'd the cell of the ancient priest, 

And lifted his barred aventayle. 

To hail the i\Ionk of St. Mary's aisle. 

[32] 



Caxto II] THE LAST MINSTREL 

IV 

''The Ladye of Branksomc greets thee by me; 

Says, that the fated hour is come, 
And that to-night I shall watch with thee, 

To win the treasure of the tomb." — 
From sackcloth couch the Monk arose, 

With toil his stiffen'd limbs he rear'd ; 
A hundred years had flung their snows 

On his thin locks and floating beard. 

V 

And strangely on the Knight look'd he, 

And his blue eyes gleam'd wild and wide ; 
''And, darest thou, Warrior ! seek to see 

What heaven and hell alike would hide ? 
My breast in belt of iron pent, 

With shirt of hair and scourge of tliorn ; 
For threescore years, in penance spent, 

My knees those flinty stones have worn ; 
Yet all too little to atone 
For knowing what should ne'er be known. 

Would' St thou thy every future year 
In ceaseless prayer and jXMiance drie, 

Yet wait tliy latter end with fear — 
Then, daring Warrioi*, follow me ! " 

VI 

Penanc\\ falhei-, will I none ; 
l*ra\i'r know I li.irdh one ; 



THE LAY OF [Canto II 

For mass or prayer can I rarely tarry, 

Save to patter an Ave Mary, 

When I ride on a Border foray. 

Other prayer can I none ; 

So speed me my errand, and let me be gone." — 

VII 

Again on the Knight look'd the Churchman old, 

And again he sighed heavily ; 
For he had himself been a warrior bold. 

And fought in Spain and Italy. 
And he thought on the days that were long since by, 
When his limbs were strong, and his courage was 

high : — 
Now, slow and faint, he led the way. 
Where, cloister 'd round, the garden lay ; 
The pillar 'd arches were over their head. 
And beneath their feet were the bones of the dead. 

VIII 

Spreading herbs, and flowerets bright, 
Glisten 'd with the dew of night ; 
Nor herb, nor floweret, glisten 'd there. 
But was carved in the cloister-arches as fair. 
' The Monk gazed long on the lovely moon, 

Then into the night he looked forth ; 
And red and bright the streamers light 
Were dancing in the glowing north. 
So had he seen, in fair Castile, 

The youth in glittering squadrons start ; 

[34] 



Canto II] THE LAST MINSTREL 

Sudden the flying jennet wheel, 
And hurl the unexpected dart. 
He knew, by the streamers that shot so bright, 
That spirits were riding the northern light. 

IX 
By a steel-clenched postern door, 

They enter'd now the chancel tall ; 
The darken'd roof rose high aloof 

On pillars lofty and light and small : 
The keystone, that lock'd each ribbed aisle. 
Was a fleur-de-lys, or a quatre-feuille ; 
The corbells were carved grotesque and grim ; 
And the pillars, with cluster'd shafts so trim. 
With base and with capital flourish 'd around, 
Seem'd bundles of lances which garlands liad bound. 

X 

Full many a scutcheon and banner riven, 
Shook to the cold night-wind of heaven. 

Around the screened altar's pale ; 
And there the dying lamps did burn, 
J^efore thy low and lonely urn, 
() gallant Chief of Otterburne ! 

And thine, dark Knight of Liddesdale ! 
() fading honors of the dead ! 
O high aml^ition, lo\vl\' laid ! 

XI 
The moon on llie east oriel shonr 
Through slender shafts of shaj)el\ slom*. 



THE LAY OF [Canto II 

By foliaged tracery combined ; 
Thou woukUst have thought some fairy's hand 
'Twixt poplars straight the ozier wand, 

In many a freakish knot, had twined ; 
Then framed a spell, when the work was done, 
And changed the willow- wreaths to stone. 
The silver light, so pale and faint, 
Show'd many a prophet, and many a saint, 

W^hose image on the glass was dyed ; 
Full in the midst, his Cross of Red 
Triumphant Michael brandished. 

And trampled the apostate's pride. 
The moon-beam kiss'd the holy pane, 
And threw on the pavement a bloody stain. 

XII 

They sate them down on a marble stone, 

(A Scottish monarch slept below ;) 
Thus spoke the ]\Ionk, in solemn tone : — 

'' I was not al\va}'s a man of woe ; 
For paynim countries I have trod, 
And fought beneath the Cross of God : 
Now, strange to my eyes thine arms appear, 
And their iron clang sounds strange to my ear. 

XIII 

'' In these far climes it was my lot 
To meet the wondrous Michael Scott ; 
A wizard, of such dreaded fame, 

[36] 




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Til K C.KAV I'. OK M Ull A K L SCO IT 



THE LAY «:»F [Caxto II 

That when, in Salamanca's cave. 
Him Usted his magic wand to wave, 

The bells would ring in Xotre-Dame ! 
Some of his skill he taught to me ; 
And, Warrior, I could say to thee 
The words that cleft Eildon hills in three. 

And bridled the Tweed with a curb of stone : 
But to speak them were a deadly sin ; 
And for ha\'ing but thought them my heart within, 

A rreble penance must be done. 

XIV 

" When Michael lay on his d\ing bed. 

His conscience was awakened : 

He bethought him of his sinful deed. 

And he gave me a sign to come with speed : 

I was in Spain when the morning rose. 

But I stood by his bed ere evening close. 

The words may not again be said. 

That he spoke to me, on death-bed laid ; 

They would rend this Abbey's massy nave. 

And pile it in heaps above his grave. 

XV 

" I swore to bury his Mighty Book, 
That never mortal might therein look ; 
And never to tell where it was hid. 
Save at his Chief of Branksome's need : 
And when that need was past and o'er. 
Again the volume to restore. 

[38] 



Canto II] THE LAST MINSTREL 

I buried him on St. Michael's night, 

When the bell toll'd one, and the moon was bright. 

And I dug his chamber among the dead. 

When the floor of the chancel was stained red, 

That his patron's cross might over him wave, 

And scare the fiends from the Wizard's grave. 

XVI 

'' It w^as a night of woe and dread, 

When Michael in the tomb I laid ! 

Strange sounds along the chancel pass'd. 

The banners waved without a blast " — 

— Still spoke the Monk, when the bell toll'd one ! 

I tell you, that a braver man 

Than William of Deloraine, good at need. 

Against a foe ne'er spurr'd a steed ; 

Yet somewhat was he chill'd with dread, 

And his hair did bristle upon liis head. 

XVII 

'' Lo, Warrior ! now, the Cross of Red 

Points to the grave of tlie mighty dead ; 

Within it burns a wondrous light, 

To chase the spirits that love the night : 

That lamp shall burn unciuenchabl\ , 

Until the eternal doom shall be." — 

Slow moved the Monk to (he broad Hag sloue, 

Whicli the bloody Cross was tracx'd upon ; 

1 le pointed to a seca'et nook ; 

An iron bar the \\^lI^io^ took ; 

1. .w I 



THE LAY OF [Caxto II 

And the ]\Ionk made a sign with his wither'd hand, 
The grave's huge portal to expand. 

XVIII 

With beating heart to the task he went ; 

His sine^^y frame o'er the gravestone bent ; 

With bar of iron heaved amain, 

Till the toil-drops fell from his brows, like rain. 

It was bv dint of passing strength, 

That he moved the massy stone at length. 

I would you had been there, to see 

How the light broke forth so gloriouslv. 

Streamed upward to the chancel roof, 

And through the galleries far aloof ! 

Xo earthly flame blazed e'er so bright : 

It shone like heaven's own blessed light. 

And, issuing from the tomb, 
Show'd the IMonk's cowl, and visage pale. 
Danced on the dark-brow 'd Warrior's mail, 

And kiss'd his waving plume. 

XIX 

Before their eyes the Wizard lay, 

As if he had not been dead a day. 

His hoar)' beard in silver roll'd, 

He seem'd some seventy winters old ; 
A palmer's amice \^Tapp'd him round, 
With a wrought Spanish baldric bound, 
Like a pilgrim from beyond the sea : 

[40] 



Canto II] THE LAST MINSTREL 

His left hand held his Book of Might ; 

A silver cross was in his right ; 

The lamp was placed beside his knee : 
High and majestic was his look, 
At which the fellest fiends had shook, 
And all unruffled was his face : 
They trusted his soul had gotten grace. 

XX 

Often had William of Deloraine 

Rode through the battle's bloody plain, 

And trampled down the warriors slain, 

And neither known remorse nor awe ; 

Yet now remorse and awe he own'd ; 

His breath came thick, his head swam round, 

When this strange scene of death he saw. 

Bewilder'd and unnerved he stood. 

And the priest pray'd fervently and loud : 

With eyes averted prayed he ; 

He might not endure the sight to see, 

Of the man he had loved so brotherly. 

XXI 

And when the priest his deatlvpra\-er had j^ray'd, 

Thus unto Ueloraine he said : — 

'' Now, speed thee wliat ihou hast to do. 

Or, Warrior, we ma\' dearh' rue ; 

l^^)r those, thou may'st not look upon, 

Are gathering fast round the \a\vning stone ! " — 



T :-: I 1 A Y 7 [Caxto II 

Th^i Dekxaine, in terrra-, took 

FnMn the cold hand the Mighty Book, 

With iron da^^d, and with hxm bound : 

He thought, as he toc^ it, the dead man frowned ; 

But the g^aie of the sepolcbrd light, 

Pcxchance, had dazzLei : t :>r's sight. 

XXII 

Wlien the huge stcme sunk o*er the tjmnb. 

The ni^it letum'd in douUe g^oom ; 

Far the mooa had gone down, and the stars were few ; 

And, as the Kjiig^t and Priest withdrew. 

With wavering st^s and dizzy brain. 

They hardOy mig^ the poston gain, 

'T is said, as through the aisles they passed. 

They heard strange ncMses <» the Uasr ; 

And through the dcMSter-gaHeries anall, 

WTiich at mid-height thread the chancel wall. 

Loud sobs^ and laughter louder, ran. 

And \YMces unlike the \mcc of man ; 

As if the fiends k^ hcdiday. 

Because these ^leDs wae brtmg^t to day. 

I cannot tdl how the truth may be ; 

I say the tale as 't was ^d to roe. 

XXIII 

" Now, hie thee hence," the Father said, 
" And when we are on death-bed laid, 

[ ^-^ : 



Canto II] THE LAST MINSTREL 

O may our dear Ladye, and sweet St. John, 
Forgive our souls for the deed we have done ! " — 
The Monk return'd him to his cell, 

And many a prayer and penance sped ; 
When the convent met at the noontide bell — 
The Monk of St. Mary's aisle was dead ! 
Before the cross was the body laid, 
With hands clasp'd fast, as if still he pray'd. 

XXIV 

The Knight breathed free in the morning wind, 

And strove his hardihood to find : 

He was glad when he pass'd the tombstones gray, 

Which girdle round the fair Abbaye ; 

For the mystic Book, to his bosom prest. 

Felt like a load upon his breast ; 

And his joints, with nerves of iron twined, 

Shook, like the aspen leaves in wind. 

Full fain was he when the daw^n of day 

Began to brighten Cheviot gray ; 

He joy'd to see the cheerful light. 

And he said Ave Mary, as well as he might. 

XXV 

The sun liad l)righten'(l Cheviot gray, 

The sun had brighten'd the Carter's sick' ; 

And soon beneath the rising day 

Smiled Ikanksome Towers and Teviot's tick'. 

[ 4;, I 



T H E L A Y O F • [Canto II 

The wild birds told their warbling tale, 

And waken 'd every flower that blows ; 
And peeped forth the violet pale, 

And spread her breast the mountain rose. 
And lovelier than the rose so red. 

Yet paler than the violet pale, 
She early left her sleepless bed. 

The fairest maid of Teviotdale. 

XXVI 

Why does fair Margaret so early awake, 

And don her kirtle so hastilie ; 
And the silken knots, which in hurry she would make. 

Why tremble her slender fingers to tie ; 
Why does she stop, and look often around, 

As she glides down the secret stair ; 
And why does she pat the shaggy bloodhound. 

As he rouses him up from his lair ; 
And, though she passes the postern alone. 
Why is not the watchman's bugle blown ? 

XXVII 

The Ladye steps in doubt and dread. 

Lest her watchful mother hear her tread ; 

The Ladye caresses the rough bloodhound. 

Lest his voice should waken the castle round ; 

The watchman's bugle is not blown. 

For he was her foster-father's son ; 

And she glides through the greenwood at dawn of light. 

To meet Baron Henry, her own true knight. 

[44] 



Canto II] THE LAST MINSTREL 

XXVIII 

The Knight and Ladye fair are met, 

And under the hawthorn's boughs are set. 

A fairer pair were never seen 

To meet beneath the hawthorn green. 

He was stately, and young, and tall ; 

Dreaded in battle, and loved in hall : 

And she, when love, scarce told, scarce hid, 

Lent to her cheek a livelier red ; 

When the half sigh her swelling breast 

Against the silken ribbon prest ; 

When her blue eyes their secret told. 

Though shaded by her locks of gold — 

Where would you find the peerless fair. 

With Margaret of Branksome might compare ! 

XXIX 

And now, fair dames, methinks I see 

You listen to my minstrelsy ; 

Your waving locks ye backward throw. 

And sidelong bend your necks of snow : 

Ye ween to hear a melting tale, 

Of two true lovers in a dale ; 

And how the Knight, with tender fire, 

To paint his faithful passion strove ; 
Swore he might at her feet expire, 

But never, never cease to love ; 
And how she bliish'd, aiul how slu- si^IiM, 
And, half consenting, half denied, 

I 15 1 



THE LAY OF [Canto II 

And said that she would die a maid ; — 
Yet, might the bloody feud be stay'd, 
Henry of Cranstoun, and only he, 
Margaret of Branksome's choice should be. 

XXX 

Alas ! fair dames, your hopes are vain ! 
My harp has lost the enchanting strain ; 

Its lightness would my age reprove : 
My hairs are gray, my limbs are old. 
My heart is dead, my veins are cold : 

I may not, must not, sing of love. 

XXXI 

Beneath an oak, moss'd o'er by eld. 
The Baron's Dwarf his courser held, 

And held his crested helm and spear. 
That Dwarf was scarce an earthly man. 
If the tales were true that of him ran 

Through all the Border, far and near. 
'T was said, when the Baron a-hunting rode 
Through Reedsdale's glens, but rarely trod. 

He heard a voice cry, *' Lost ! lost ! lost ! " 

And, like tennis-ball by racket toss'd, 
A leap, of thirty feet and three. 

Made from the gorse this elfin shape, 

Distorted like some dwarfish ape, 

And lighted at Lord Cranstoun 's knee. 

[46] 



Canto II] THE LAST MINSTREL 

Lord Cranstoun was some whit dismay'd ; 

'T is said that five good miles he rade, 
To rid him of his company ; 
But where he rode one mile, the Dwarf ran four, 
And the Dwarf was first at the castle door. 

XXXII 

Use lessens marvel, it is said : 
This elvish Dwarf with the Baron stayed ; 
Little he ate, and less he spoke, 
Nor mingled with the menial flock : 
And oft apart his arms he toss'd, 
And often mutter 'd " Lost ! lost ! lost ! " 
He was waspish, arch, and litherlie. 
But well Lord Cranstoun served he : 
And he of his service was full fain ; 
For once he had been ta'en or slain, 
An it had not been for his ministry. 
All between Home and Hermitage, 
Talk'd of Lord Cranstoun's GoblinT^agc. 

XXXIII 

For the Baron went on pilgrimage. 
And took with him this elvish Page, 

To Mary's chapel of the Lowes : 
l^'or there, beside Our Ladye's lake, 

An odering he had sworn to make, 
And he woiikl p.i\- his x'ows. 

I 17 I 



THE LAY OF [Canto II 

But the Ladye of Branksome gather'd a band 
Of the best that would ride at her command : 

The trysting place was Newark Lee. 
Wat of Harden came thither amain, 
And thither came John of Thirlestane, 
And thither came William of Deloraine ; 

They were three hundred spears and three. 
Through Douglas-burn, up Yarrow stream, 
Their horses prance, their lances gleam. 
They came to St. Mary's lake ere day ; 
But the chapel was void, and the Baron away. 
They burn'd the chapel for very rage, 
And cursed Lord Cranstoun's Goblin-Page. 

XXXIV 

And now, in Branksome's good green-wood, 
As under the aged oak he stood. 
The Baron's courser pricks his ears. 
As if a distant noise he hears. 
The Dwarf waves his long lean arm on high, 
And signs to the lovers to part and fly ; 
No time was then to vow or sigh. 
Fair Margaret, through the hazel grove. 
Flew like the startled cushat-dove : 
The Dwarf the stirrup held and rein ; 
Vaulted the Knight on his steed amain. 
And, pondering deep that morning's scene. 
Rode eastward through the hawthorns green. 

[48] 



Canto II] THE LAST MINSTREL 

While thus he pour'd the lengthened tale, 
The Minstrel's voice began to fail : 
Full slyly smiled the observant page, 
And gave the wither 'd hand of age 
A goblet, crown'd with mighty wine, 
The blood of Velez' scorched vine. 
He raised the silver cup on high. 
And, while the big drop fill'd his eye, 
Pray'd God to bless the Duchess long, 
And all who cheer'd a son of song. 
The attending maidens smiled to see 
How long, how deep, how zealously, 
The precious juice the Minstrel quaff' d ; 
And he, embolden 'd by the draught, 
Look'd gayly back to them, and laugh'd. 
The cordial nectar of the bowl 
Swell'd his old veins, and cheer'd his soul ; 
A lighter, livelier prelude ran, 
Ere thus his tale again began. 



\ V 



OUTLINE OF CANTO THIRD 

At the warning of the dwarf, Lord Cranstoun hastily 
mounts and rides away, but almost at once meets William 
of Deloraine. In spite of the latter's weariness, he spurs 
on his horse and closes with Lord Cranstoun in a fierce 
combat. Deloraine is worsted, and Cranstoun rides away, 
but out of pity for his wounded foe, who is a kinsman of 
fair Margaret, he leaves the dwarf behind to attend him. 
The impish dwarf spies the book in the wounded man's 
corselet, and immediately forgets all else in his attempt to 
discover what the strange volume may be. Some hidden 
hand smites the dwarf for his unrighteous curiosity and 
commands him to let it alone. He then places the wounded 
Deloraine on his horse, and with the book hidden under his 
cloak, in a disguised form takes his way to Branksome Hall. 
As he leaves the Castle he comes upon the youthful heir' 
of the house at play, and desiring to do some mischief, leads 
the boy away and leaves him in the deep woods, where he 
is found by a party of English hunters, foes of the Border 
clans. In a spirit of bravado the boy tells his captors that 
he is the heir of bold Buccleuch, and they eagerly carry him 
to their chief. Lord Dacre. 

In the meantime the dwarf has assumed the form of 
the boy and lives at the castle, but is up to all sorts of mis- 
chievous tricks with his secret powers. The Lady of Brank- 
some finds the wounded knight at her door, and, greatly 
wondering, cares for him with all the skill at her command. 
That evening signal fires are seen from first one hill and 
then another, telling that their common foe, the English, 
are making a hostile approach. At once there is confusion 
and preparation for war. 

[so] 



"Ami,. ' - Mu^ ^y 




CANTO THIRD 



A-^' 



ND said I that my limbs were old, 



A=\\ And said I that my blood was cold, 
JL JA- And that my kindly fire was fled, 
And my poor wdther'd heart was dead, 

And that I might not sing of love ? — 
How could I to the dearest theme. 
That ever warm'd a minstrel's dream. 

So foul, so false a recreant prove ! 
How could I name love's very name, 
Nor wake my heart to notes of (lame ! 



II 



In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's \\w\ ; 
In war, he mounts the warrior's steed ; 
In halls, in gay attire is seen ; 
In iiamk'ts, dancx's on the green. 



5' 



THE LAY OF [Canto III 

Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, 
And men below, and saints above ; 
For love is heaven, and heaven is love. 



Ill 

So thought Lord Cranstoun, as I ween, 

While, pondering deep the tender scene. 

He rode through Branksome's hawthorn green. 

But the page shouted wild and shrill, 
And scarce his helmet could he don. 

When downward from the shady hill 
A stately knight came pricking on. 
That warrior's steed, so dapple-gray, 
Was dark with sweat, and splash 'd with clay ; 

His armor red with many a stain : 
He seem'd in such a weary plight. 
As if he had ridden the livelong night 

For it was William of Deloraine. 

IV 

But no whit weary did he seem. 

When, dancing in the sunny beam. 

He mark'd the crane on the Baron's crest ; 

For his ready spear was in his rest. 

Few were the words, and stern and high. 
That mark'd the foemen's feudal hate ; 
For question fierce, and proud reply. 
Gave signal soon of dire debate. 

• [52] 



Canto III] THE LAST MINSTREL 

Their very coursers seem'd to know 
That each was other's mortal foe, 
And snorted fire, when wheel'd around. 
To give each knight his vantage-ground. 



In rapid round the Baron bent ; 

He sigh'd a sigh, and pray'd a prayer ; 
The prayer was to his patron saint, 

The sigh was to his ladye fair. 
Stout Deloraine nor sighed nor pray'd. 
Nor saint, nor ladye, call'd to aid ; 
But he stoop'd his head, and couch'd his spear. 
And spurr'd his steed to full career. 
The meeting of these champions proud 
Seem'd like the bursting thundercloud. 

VI 

Stern was the dint the Borderer lent ! 

The stately Baron backwards bent ; 

Bent backwards to his horse's tail. 

And his plumes went scattering on the gale ; 

The tough ash spear, so stout and true, 

Into a thousand flinders flew. 

But Cranstoun's lance, of more avail, 

Pierced througli, like silk, the l^orderc^'s mail ; 

Through shield, and jack, and acton, j)ast, 

Deej) in his bosom broke at last. — 

Still sate the warrior saddle-fast, 

[53 J 



THE LAY OF [Canto III 

Till, stumbling in the mortal shock, 
Down went the steed, the girthing broke, 
Hurl'd on a heap lay man and horse. 
The Baron onward pass'd his course ; 
Nor knew — so giddy roll'd his brain — 
His foe lay stretch'd upon the plain. 

VII 

But when he rein'd his courser round. 
And saw his foeman on the ground 

Lie senseless as the bloody clay. 
He bade his page to stanch the wound. 

And there beside the warrior stay, 
And tend him in his doubtful state. 
And lead him to Branksome castle-gate : 
His noble mind was inly moved 
For the kinsman of the maid he loved. 
'' This shalt thou do without delay : 
No longer here myself may stay ; 
Unless the swifter I speed away, 
Short shrift will be at my dying day." 

VIII 

Away in speed Lord Cranstoun rode ; 

The Goblin-Page behind abode ; 

His lord's command he ne'er withstood, 

Though small his pleasure to do good. 

As the corslet off he took, 

The Dwarf espied the Mighty Book ! 

[54] 



Canto III] THE LAST MINSTREL 

Much he marvell'd a knight of pride, 
Like a book-bosom 'd priest should ride : 
He thought not to search or stanch the wound, 
Until the secret he had found. 

IX 

The iron band, the iron clasp, 

Resisted long the elfin grasp : 

For when the first he had undone. 

It closed as he the next begun. 

Those iron clasps, that iron band, 

Would not yield to unchristen'd hand, 

Till he smear'd the cover o'er 

With the Borderer's curdled gore ; 

A moment then the volume spread. 

And one short spell therein he read, 

It had much of glamor might. 

Could make a ladye seem a knight ; 

The cobwebs on a dungeon wall 

Seem tapestry in lordly hall ; 

A nut-shell seem a gilded barge, 

A sheeling seem a palace large. 

And youth seem age, and age seem \()uth — 

All was delusion, nought was truth. 

X 

He liad not read anotlier spell, 
When on his cheek a biilTel fell, 
So fierce, i( stretch'd him on the |)lain, 
Heside the wouiulcd 1 )el()raini'. 



THE LAY OF [Canto III 

From the ground he rose dismay'd, 

And shook his huge and matted head ; 

One word he mutter'd, and no more, 

'' Man of age, thou smitest sore ! " — 

No more the Elfin Page durst try 

Into the wondrous Book to pry ; 

The clasps, though smear'd with Christian gore, 

Shut faster than they were before. 

He hid it underneath his cloak. — 

Now, if you ask who gave the stroke, 

I cannot tell, so mot I thrive ; 

It was not given by man alive. 

Unwillingly himself he address 'd, 

To do his master's high behest : 

He lifted up the living corse. 

And laid it on the weary horse ; 

He led him into Branksome Hall, 

Before the beards of the warders all ; 

And each did after swear and say, 

There only pass'd a wain of hay. 

He took him to Lord David's tower, 

Even to the Ladye's secret bower. 

And, but that stronger spells were spread. 

And the door might not be opened. 

He had laid him on her very bed. 

Whate'er he did of gramarye, 

Was always done maliciously ; 

[56] 



Canto III] THE LAST MINSTREL 

He flung the warrior on the ground, 

And the blood weird freshly from the wound. 

XII 

As he repass'd the outer court, 

He spied the fair young child at sport : 

He thought to train him to the wood ; 

For, at a word, be it understood, 

He was always for ill, and never for good. 

Seem'd to the boy, some comrade gay 

Led him forth to the woods to play ; 

On the drawbridge the warders stout 

Saw a terrier and lurcher passing out. 

XIII 

He led the boy o'er bank and fell. 

Until they came to a woodland brook ; 
The running stream dissolved the spell, 

And his own elvish shape he took. 
Could he have had his pleasure vilde. 
He had crippled the joints of the noble child ; 
Or, with his fingers long and lean, 
Had strangled him in fiendish spleen : 
But his awful mother he had in dread, 
And also his power was limited ; 
So he but scowl'd on the startled chikl, 
And darted through the forest wild ; 
The woodland brook he bounding cross'd, 
And laugh'd, and shouted, '' Lost ! lost ! lost ! 

L57] 



THE LAY OF [Canto III 

XIV 

Full sore amazed at the wondrous change, 

And frighten 'd as a child might be, 
At the wild yell and visage strange, 

And the dark words of gramarye, 
The child, amidst the forest bower. 
Stood rooted like a lily flower ; 

And when at length, with trembling pace, 
He sought to find where Branksome lay. 

He fear'd to see that grisly face 

Glare from some thicket on his way. 
Thus, starting oft, he journey'd on. 
And deeper in the wood is gone, — 
For aye the more he sought his way. 
The further still he went astrav, — 
Until he heard the mountains round 
Ring to the baying of a hound. 

XV 

And hark ! and hark ! the deep-mouth 'd bark 

Comes nigher still, and nigher : 
Bursts on the path a dark bloodhound, 
His tawny muzzle track'd the ground. 

And his red eye shot fire. 
Soon as the wilder'd child saw he. 
He flew at him right furiouslie. 
I ween you would have seen with joy 
The bearing of the gallant boy, 

[58] 



Canto III] THE LAST MINSTREL 

When, worthy of his noble sire, 

His wet cheek glow'd 'twixt fear and ire ! 

He faced the bloodhound manfully, 

And held his little bat on high ; 

So fierce he struck, the dog, afraid, 

At cautious distance hoarsely bay'd. 

But still in act to spring ; 
When dash'd an archer through the glade. 
And when he saw the hound was stay'd. 

He drew his tough bowstring ; 
But a rough voice cried, '' Shoot not, hoy ! 
Ho ! shoot not, Edward — 'T is a boy ! " 

XVI 

The speaker issued from the wood. 
And check'd his fellow's surly mood. 

And quell'd the ban-dog's ire : 
He was an English yeoman good. 

And born in Lancashire. 
Well could he hit a fallow-deer 

Five hundred feet him fro ; 
With hand more true, and eye more clear, 

No archer bended bow. 
His coal-black hair, shorn round and close. 

Set off his sun-burn 'd face : 
Old England's sign, St. (leorge's cross, 

His barrel-cap did grace ; 
His bugle-horn hung by his side, 

All in a wolf-skin baldric tied ; 

L 59 J 



THE LAY OF [Caxto III 

And his short falchion, sharp and clear, 
Had pierced the throat of many a deer. 

XVII 

His kirtle, made of forest green, 

Reach 'd scantly to his knee ; 
And, at his belt, of arrows keen 

A furbish 'd sheaf bore he ; 
His buckler scarce in breadth a span, 

Xo larger fence had he ; 
He never counted him a man. 

Would strike below the knee : 
His slacken 'd bow was in his hand, 
And the leash, that was his bloodhound's band. 

XVIII 

He would not do the fair child harm, 
But held him ^^'ith his powerful arm. 
That he might neither fight nor flee ; 
For when the Red- Cross spied he. 
The boy strove long and violently. 
'' Now, by St. George," the archer cries, 
'' Edward, methinks we have a prize ! 
This boy's fair face, and courage free. 
Show he is come of high degree." — 

XIX 

''Yes ! I am come of high degree, 
F'or I am the heir of bold Buccleuch ; 

[60] 



Canto III] THE LAST MINSTREL 

And, if thou dost not set me free, 

False Southron, thou shalt dearly rue ! 
For Walter of Harden shall come with speed. 
And William of DeloraLne, good at need. 
And every Scott, from Esk to Tweed ; 
And, if thou dost not let me go, 
Despite thy arrows, and thy bow, 
I '11 have thee hang'd to feed the crow ! " — 

XX 

'' Gramercy, for thy good-will, fair boy ! 
My mind was never set so high ; 
But if thou art chief of such a clan, 
And art the son of such a man. 
And ever comest to thy command. 

Our wardens had need to keep good order ; 
My bow of yew to a hazel wand. 

Thou 'It make them work upon the Border. 
Meantime, be pleased to come with me. 
For good Lord Dacre shalt thou see ; 
I think our work is well begun. 
When we have taken thy father's son." 

XXI 

Although the child was led away, 
In l^ranksomc still he sccm'd to stav, 
For so the Dwarf his part did pla\' ; 
And, in the shai)e of that xouni; bow 
He wrought the castle miu^i ;iiin()\-. 



THE LAY OF [Canto III 

The comrades of the young Buccleuch 
He pinch'd, and beat, and overthrew ; 
Nay, some of them he wellnigh slew. 
He tore Dame Maudhn's silken tire, 
And, as Sym Hall stood by the fire, 
He lighted the match of his bandelier, 
And wofully scorch'd the hackbuteer. 
It may be hardly thought or said. 
The mischief that the urchin made, 
Till many of the castle guess 'd, 
That the young Baron was possess'd ! 

XXII 

Well I ween the charm he held 
The noble Ladye had soon dispelled ; 
But she was deeply busied then 
To tend the wounded Deloraine. 

Much she wonder'd to find him lie. 

On the stone threshold stretch'd along ; 

She thought some spirit of the sky 

Had done the bold moss-trooper \^Tong ; 
Because, despite her precept dread. 
Perchance he in the Book had read ; 
But the broken lance in his bosom stood, 
And it was earthly steel and wood. 

XXIII 

She drew the splinter from the wound, 
And with a charm she stanch'd the blood ; 

[62] 



Canto III] T H E L A S T M I N S r R K L 

She bade the gash be cleansed and bound : 
No longer by his couch she stood ; 

But she has ta'en the broken lance, 
And wash'd it from the clotted gore, 
And salved the splinter o'er and o'er. 

William of Deloraine, in trance, 

Whene'er she turn'd it round and round, 
Twisted as if she gall'd his wound. 

Then to her maidens she did say. 
That he should be whole man and sound. 
Within the course of a night and day. 

Full long she toil'd ; for she did rue 

Mishap to friend so stout and true. 

XXIV 

So pass'd the day — the evening fell, 

'T was near the time of curfew bell ; 

The air was mild, the wind was calm. 

The stream was smooth, the dew w^as balm ; 

E'en the rude watchman, on the tower, 

Enjoy'd and bless'd the lovely hour. 

Far more fair Margaret loved and bless'd 

The hour of silence and of rest. 

On the high turret sitting lone, 

She waked at times the lute's soft lone ; 

Touch'd a wild note, and all between 

11i()Ught of the bower of hawthorns grc\Mi. 

Her golden liair slream'd (vrr Irom band, 

Her fair cheek rested on hrv hand, 



THE LAY OF [Canto III 

Her blue eyes sought the west afar, 
For lovers love the western star. 

XXV 

Is yon the star, o'er Pendmst Pen, 

That rises slowly to her ken. 

And, spreading broad its wavering lights 

Shakes its loose tresses on the night ? 

Is yon red glare the western star ? — 

O ! 't is the beacon-blaze of war ! 

Scarce could she draw her tighten'd breath. 

For well she knew the fire of death I 

XXVI 

The Warder \"iew'd it blazing strong. 
And blew his war-note loud and long. 
Till, at the high and haught}- sound. 
Rock, wood, and river, rung around. 
The blast alarm'd the festal hall. 
And startled forth the warriors all ; 
Far downward, in the castle-yard. 
Full many a torch and cfesset glared ; 
And helms and plumes, confusedly toss*d, 
Were in the blaze half -seen, half-lost ; 
And spears in wild disorder shook. 
Like reeds beside a frozen brook. 

XXVII 

The Seneschal, whose silver hair 
Was redden'd by the torches' glare, 

"64" 



Canto III] THE LAST MINSTREL 

Stood in the midst, with gesture proud, 
And issued forth his mandates loud : — 
'' On Penchryst glows a bale of fire. 
And three are kindling on Priesthaughswire ; 

Ride out, ride out, 

The foe to scout ! 
Mount, mount for Branksome, every man ! 
Thou, Todrig, warn the Johnstone clan, 

That ever are true and stout — 
Ye need not send to Liddesdale ; 
For when they see the blazing bale, 
Elliots and Armstrongs never fail. — 
Ride, Alton, ride, for death and life ! 
And warn the Warden of the strife. 
Young Gilbert, let our beacon blaze, 
Our kin, and clan, and friends, to raise." 

xxvni 
Fair Margaret, from the turret head, 
Heard, far below, the coursers' tread, 

While loud the harness rung. 
As to their seats, with clamor dread, 

The ready horsemen sprung : 
And trampling hoofs, and iron coats. 
And leaders' voices, mingled notes, 
And out ! and out ! 
In hasty rout, 
'I'he horsemen gall()])'(l forth ; 
Dispersing to the south to sc(Uit, 
And east, and west, and luulh. 

I ''5 I 



THE LAY OF [Canto III 

To view their coming enemies, 
And warn their vassals and alhes. 

XXIX 

The ready page, with hurried hand, 
Awaked the need-fire's slumbering brand. 

And ruddy blush'd the heaven : 
For a sheet of flame, from the turret high, 
Waved like a blood-flag on the sky. 

All flaring and uneven ; 
And soon a score of fires, I ween. 
From height, and hill, and cliff, were seen ; 
Each with warlike tidings fraught ; 
Each from each the signal caught ; 
Each after each they glanced to sight, 
As stars arise upon the night. 
They gleam 'd on many a dusky tarn, 
Haunted by the lonely earn ; 
On many a cairn's gray pyramid. 
Where urns of mighty chiefs lie hid ; 
Till high Dunedin the blazes saw, 
F\om Soltra and Dumpender Law ; 
And Lothian heard the Regent's order. 
That all should bowne them for the Border. 

XXX 

The livelong night in Branksome rang 

The ceaseless sound of steel ; 
The castle-bell, with backward clang. 

Sent forth the larum peal ; 
[66] 



THE LAY OF [Canto III 

Was frequent heard the hea\y jar, 
Where massy stone and iron bar 
Were piled on echoing keep and tower, 
To whelm the foe with deadly shower ; 
Was frequent heard the changing guard, 
And watchword from the sleepless ward ; 
While, wearied by the endless din. 
Bloodhound and ban-dog yell'd within. . 

XXXI 

The noble Dame, amid the broil, 
Shared the gray Seneschal's high toil. 
And spoke of danger with a smile ; 

Cheer'd the young knights, and counsel sage 
Held wdth the chiefs of riper age. 
No tidings of the foe w^ere brought, 
Nor of his numbers knew they aught, 
Nor what in time of truce he sought. 

Some said, that there were thousands ten ; 
And others ween'd that it was nought 

But Leven Clans, or Tynedale men, 
Who came to gather in black-mail ; 
And Liddesdale, with small avail, 

Might drive them lightly back agen. 
So pass'd the anxious night aww, 
And welcome was the peep of day. 

Ceased the high sound — the listening throng 
Applaud the Master of the Song ; 
[68] 



Canto II!] THE LAST MINSTREL 

And marvel much, in helpless age, 
So hard should be his pilgrimage. 
Had he no friend — no daughter dear. 
His wandering toil to share and cheer ; 
No son to be his father's stay, 
And guide him on the rugged way ? 
''Ay, once he had — but he was dead ! " 
Upon the harp he stoop'd his head. 
And busied himself the strings withal. 
To hide the tear that fain would fall. 
In solemn measure, soft and slow. 
Arose a father's notes of woe. 



I ^"> I 



OUTLINE OF CANTO FOURTH 

Before resuming his tale, the minstrel contrasts the peace- 
ful scenes of the present with the days when the bugle took 
the place of the shepherd's reed, and warriors died to protect 
their hills. It was during those times that Lord Dacre and 
Lord Howard led their forces against Branksome Tower, 
holding the heir of Buccleuch as a hostage. 

Watt Tinlinn is the first of the clan to reach the Castle 
W'ith news of the enemy. Band after band of allies and 
dependents of the house of Branksome arrive to take their 
stand and defy the English. The mistress sends for her 
son to see the assembling of men and the preparations for 
war, but the dwarf, in the disguise of the boy, feigns fear. 
When the boy's mother hears of this, she is filled with shame 
and orders Watt Tinlinn to take him from the Castle and 
leave him where no one can learn of his cowardice. This he 
attempts to do, but w^hen they are crossing a stream the spell 
is broken and the dwarf assumes his goblin shape and escapes. 

When the enemy arrive before the Castle, through a 
messenger they require the presence of the mistress on the 
outer wall. When she appears, she sees her son in Lord 
Howard's livery and is told that he will be given up to 
her only in exchange for \A'illiam of Deloraine, whom the 
English accuse of many unlawful acts. She must also receive 
into her Castle two hundred soldiers. She refuses to yield 
to these demands, having knowledge through her secret art 
of the near approach of reenforcements. The English are 
about to storm the Castle when a messenger informs Lord 
Howard of these reenforcements; he therefore proposes 
that their differences be settled by a single combat be- 
tween Deloraine and Richard Musgrave. This is agreed to. 

[70] 










CANTO FOURTH 



iWEET Teviot ! on thy silver tide 

The glaring bale-fires blaze no more ; 
No longer steel-clad warriors ride 
Along thy wild and willow'd shore ; 
Where'er thou wind'st, by dale or Inll, 
All, all is peaceful, all is still, 

As if thy waves, since Time was born, 
Since first they roll'd upon the Tweed, 
Had only heard the shepherd's reed, 
Nor started at the IxiHe-liorn. 



II 

Unlike the tide of human lime, 

Which, though il change in ch^iscIcss llow. 
Retains each grief, retains iMch crime. 

Its earHest course \\;is doom'd to know ; 

I 7' I 



THE LAY OF [Canto IV 

And, darker as it downward bears, 
Is stained with past and present tears. 

Low as that tide has ebb'd with me, 
It still reflects to Memory's eye 
The hour my brave, my only boy. 

Fell by the side of great Dundee. 
Why, when the volleying musket play'd 
Against the bloody Highland blade. 
Why was I not beside him laid ! — 
Enough — he died the death of fame ; 
Enough — he died with conquering Graeme. 

Ill 

Now over Border dale and fell, 

Full wide and far was terror spread ; 

For pathless marsh, and mountain cell, 
The peasant left his lowly shed. 

The frighten'd flocks and herds were pent 

Beneath the peel's rude battlement ; 

And maids and matrons dropp'd the tear, 

While ready warriors seized the spear. 

From Branksome's towers, the watchman's eye 

Dun wreaths of distant smoke can spy, 

Which, curling in the rising sun, 

Show'd southern ravage was begun. 

IV 

Now loud the heedful gate-ward cried — 
'' Prepare ye all for blows and blood ! 

[72] 



Canto IV] THE LAS T MINSTREL 

Watt Tinlinn, from the Liddel-side, 
Comes wading through the flood. 
Full oft the Tynedale snatchers knock 
At his lone gate, and prove the lock ; 
It was but last St. Barnabright 
They sieged him a whole summer night, 
But fled at morning ; well they knew, 
In vain he never twang'd the yew. 
Right sharp has been the evening shower, 
That drove him from his Liddel tower ; 
And, by my faith," the gate-ward said, 
'' I think 'twin prove a Warden-Raid." 



While thus he spoke, the bold yeoman 
Entered the echoing barbican. 
He led a small and shaggy nag, 
That through a bog, from hag to hag, 
Could bound like any l^illhope stag. 
It bore his wife and children twain ; 
A half-clothed serf was all their train : 
His wife, stout, ruddy, and dark-brow 'd, 
Of silver brooch and bracelet proud, 
Laughed to her friends among the crowd. 
He was of stature passing tall, 
lUit sparely form'd, and lean \vith;il ; 
A batter'd morion on his brow ; 
A leather jack, as {'vucc enow, 

I 7,^ I 



THE LAY O F [Canto IV 

On his broad shoulders loosely hung ; 
A Border axe behmd was slung ; 

His spear, six Scottish ells in length, 

Seem'd newly dyed with gore ; 
His shafts and bow, of wondrous strength. 
His hardy partner bore. 



VI 

Thus to the Ladye did Tinlinn show 

The tidings of the English foe : — 

'"' Belted Will Howard is marching here, 

And hot Lord Dacre, vrith many a spear. 

And all the German hackbut-men, 

Who have long lain at Askerten : 

They cross 'd the Liddel at curfew hour, 

And burn'd my little lonelv tower : 

The fiend receive their souls therefor I 

It had not been burnt this year and more. 

Barnvard and dwelling, blazing bright, 

Served to 2naide me on mv flio'ht ; 

But I was chased the livelong night. 

Black John of Akeshaw, and Fergus Graeme, 

Fast upon my traces came. 

Until I tuni'd at Priesthaugh Scrogg, 

And shot their horses in the bog, 

Slew Fergus with my lance outright — 

I had him long at high despite : 

He drove my cows last Fastem's night." 

[74] 





















DC 
U 
O 



T H E L A Y O F [Canto IV 

VII 

Now wear}^ scouts from Liddesdale, 
Fast hurtying in, confirm'd the tale ; 
As far as they could judge by ken, 

Three hours would bring to Teviot's strand 
Three thousand armed Englishmen — 
Meanwhile, full many a warlike band, 
From Teviot, Aill, and Ettrick shade, 
Came in, their Chief's defence to aid. 

There was saddling and mounting in haste, 

There was pricking o'er moor and lea ; 
He that was last at the trysting-place 
Was but lightly held of his gay ladye. 

VIII 

From fair St. Mar)^'s silver wave, 

From dreary Gamescleugh's dusky height, 
His ready lances Thirlestane brave 

Array'd beneath a banner bright. 
The tressured fleur-de-luce he claims 
To wreath his shield, since royal James, 
Encamp 'd by Fala's mossy wave. 
The proud distinction grateful gave, 

For faith 'mid feudal jars ; 
What time, save Thirlestane alone. 
Of Scotland's stubborn barons none 

Would march to southern wars ; 
And hence, in fair remembrance worn. 
Yon sheaf of spears his crest has borne ; 

[76] 



Canto IV] THE LAST MINSTREL 

Hence his high motto shines reveal'd — 
'' Ready, aye ready," for the field. 

IX 

An aged Knight, to danger steel'd, 

With many a moss-trooper, came on ; 
And azure in a golden field, 
The stars and crescent graced his shield, 

Without the bend of Murdieston. 
Wide lay his lands round Oakwood tower, 
And wide round haunted Castle-Ower ; 
High over Borthwick's mountain flood, 
His wood-embosomed mansion stood ; 
In the dark glen, so deep below. 
The herds of plundered England low ; 
His bold retainers' daily food. 
And bought with danger, blows, and blood. 
Marauding chief ! his sole delight 
The moonlight raid, the morning fight ; 
Not even the flower of Yarrow's charms, 
In youth, might tame his rage for arms ; 
And still, in age, he spurn 'd at rest, 
And still his brows the helmet prcss'd, 
Albeit the blanched locks below 
Were white as Dinlay's spotless snow ; 

Five stately warriors drew the sword 
Before their father's hand ; 

A braver knight than Ilarden's lord 
Ne'er belted on a braiul. 

[77 J 



THE LAY OF [Canto IV 

X 

Scotts of Eskdale, a stalwart band, 

Came trooping down the Todshawhill ; 
By the sword they won their land, 

And by the sword they hold it still. 
Hearken, Ladye, to the tale, 
How thy sires won fair Eskdale. — 
Earl Morton was lord of that valley fair. 
The Beattisons were his vassals there. 
The Earl was gentle, and mild of mood, 
The vassals were warlike, and fierce, and rude ; 
High of heart, and haughty of word. 
Little they reck'd of a tame liege lord. 
The Earl into fair Eskdale came. 
Homage and seignory to claim : 
Of Gilbert the Galliard a heriot he sought, 
Saying, '' Give thy best steed, as a vassal ought." 
— '' Dear to me is my bonny white steed. 
Oft has he help'd me at pinch of need ; 
Lord and Earl though thou be, I trow, 
I can rein Bucksfoot better than thou." — 
Word on word gave fuel to fire. 
Till so highly blazed the Beattison's ire. 
But that the Earl the flight had ta'en. 
The vassals there their lord had slain. 
Sore he plied both whip and spur. 
As he urged his steed through Eskdale muir ; 
And it fell down a weary weight. 
Just on the threshold of Branksome gate. 

[78] 



Canto IV] I H E L A S T M I N S T R E L 

XI 

The Earl was a wrathful man to see, 

Full fain avenged would he be. 

In haste to Branksome's Lord he spoke, 

Saying — " Take these traitors to thy yoke ; 

For a cast of hawks, and a purse of gold, 

All Eskdale I '11 sell thee, to have and hold : 

Beshrew thy heart, of the Beattisons' clan 

If thou leavest on Eske a landed man ; 

But spare Woodkerrick's lands alone, 

For he lent me his horse to escape upon." 

A glad man then was Branksome bold, 

Down he flung him the purse of gold ; 

To Eskdale soon he spurr'd amain. 

And with him five hundred riders has ta'en. 

He left his merrymen in the mist of the hill. 

And bade them hold them close and still ; 

And alone he wended to the plain, 

To meet with the Galliard and all his train. 

To Gilbert the Galliard thus he said : — 

'' Know thou me for thy liege-lord and head ; 

Deal not with me as with Morton tame, 

lH)r Scotts play best at the roughest ganu". 

Give me in peace my heriot due, 

Thy bonny white steed, or thou sliall vuc 

If my horn I three times wind, 

Eskdale shall loni/ liaxe the sound in niiiul." 



[79 



THE LAY OF [Canto IV 

XII 
Loudly the Beattison laugh 'd in scorn ; 
'' Little care we for thy winded horn. 
Ne'er shall it be the Galliard's lot, 
To yield his steed to a haughty Scott. 
Wend thou to Branksome back on foot, 
With rusty spur and miry boot." — 
He blew his bugle so loud and hoarse, 
That the dun deer started at far Craikcross ; 
He blew again so loud and clear. 
Through the gray mountain-mist there did lances appear; 
And the third blast rang with such a din. 
That the echoes answer'd from Pentoun-linn, 
And all his riders came lightly in. 
Then had you seen a gallant shock, 
When saddles were emptied, and lances broke ! 
For each scornful word the Galliard had said, 
A Beattison on the field was laid. 
His own good sword the chieftain drew, 
And he bore the Galliard through and through ; 
Where the Beattisons' blood mix'd with the rill, 
The Galliard's Haugh men call it still. 
The Scotts have scatter'd the Beattison clan, 
In Eskdale they left but one landed man. 
The valley of Eske, from the mouth to the source, 
Was lost and won for that bonny white horse. 

XIII 

Whitslade the Hawk, and Headshaw came, 
And warriors more than I may name ; 

[So] 



Canto IV] T H E L A S T M I N S T R E L 

From Yarrow-cleugh to Hindhaugh-swair, 

From Woodhouselie to Chester-glen, 
Troop'd man and horse, and bow and spear ; 

Their gathering word was Bellenden. 
And better hearts o'er Border sod 
To siege or rescue never rode. 

The Ladye mark'd the aids come in. 
And high her heart of pride arose : 
She bade her youthful son attend, 
That he might know his father's friend, 

And learn to face his foes. 
'' The boy is ripe to look on war ; 

I saw him draw a crossbow stiff, 
And his true arrow struck afar 
The raven's nest upon the cliff ; 
The red cross, on a southern breast, 
Is broader than the raven's nest : 
Thou, Whitslade, shalt teach him his weapon to wield, 
And o'er him hold his father's shield." — 

XIV 

Well may you think, the wily page 
Cared not to face the Ladye sage. 
He counterfeited childisli fear, 
And shriek'd, and shed full many a tear, 
And moan'd and plain'd in maniiei- wild. 

The attendants lo the Lache toKl, 
Some faiiy, sure, had changed the child. 
That wont to \)c so fice and bold. 
I S. I 



THE LAY OF [Canto IV 

Then wrathful was the noble dame ; 

She blush 'd blood-red for very shame : — 

'' Hence ! ere the clan his faintness view ; 

Hence with the weakling to Buccleuch ! — 

Watt Tinlinn, thou shalt be his guide 

To Rangleburn's lonely side. — 

Sure some fell fiend has cursed our line, 

That coward should e'er be son of mine ! " — 

XV 

A heavy task Watt Tinlinn had, 
To guide the counterfeited lad. 
Soon as .the palfrey felt the weight 
Of that ill-omen 'd elfish freight, 
He bolted, sprung, and rear'd amain, 
Nor heeded bit, nor curb, nor rein. 

It cost Watt Tinlinn mickle toil 

To drive him but a Scottish mile ; 
But as a shallow brook they cross'd. 

The elf, amid the running stream. 

His figure changed, like form in dream, 

And fled, and shouted, '' Lost ! lost ! lost ! " 
Full fast the urchin ran and laugh 'd. 
But faster still a cloth-yard shaft 
Whistled from startled Tinlinn 's yew 
And pierced his shoulder through and through. 
Although the imp might not be slain, 
And though the wound soon heal'd again 
Yet, as he ran, he yell'd for pain ; 

[82] 



Canto IV] THE LAST MINSTREL 

And Watt of Tinlinn, much aghast, 
Rode back to Branksome fiery fast. 

XVI 

Soon on the hill's steep verge he stood, 

That looks o'er Branksome's towers and wood ; 

And martial murmurs, from below, 

Proclaim'd the approaching southern foe. 

Through the dark wood, in mingled tone, 

Were Border pipes and bugles blown ; 

The coursers' neighing he could ken, 

A measured tread of marching men ; 

While broke at times the solemn hum, 

The Almayn's sullen kettle-drum ; 

And banners tall, of crimson sheen. 
Above the copse appear ; 

And, glistening through the hawthorns green. 
Shine helm, and shield, and spear. 

XVII 

Light forayers, first, to view the ground, 
Spurr'd their fleet coursers loosely round ; 
Behind, in close array, and fast. 

The Kendal archers, all in green, 
Obedient to the bugk' blast, 

Advancing from the wood were seen. 
To back and guard the archer band, 
Lord Dacre's bill-men were al haiul : 



THE LAY OF [Canto IV 

A hardy race, on Irthing bred, 

With kirtles white, and crosses red, 

Array'd beneath the banner tall. 

That stream 'd o'er Acre's conquer 'd wall ; 

And minstrels, as they march 'd in order, 

Play'd, '' Noble Lord Dacre, he dwells on the Border." 

XVIII 

Behind the English bill and bow. 
The mercenaries, firm and slow. 

Moved on to fight, in dark array. 
By Conrad Ted of Wolfenstein, 
Who brought the band from distant Rhine, 

And sold their blood for foreign pay. 
The camp their home, their law the sword. 
They knew no country, own'd no lord : 
They were not arm'd like England's sons, 
But bore the levin-darting guns ; 
Buff coats, all frounced and 'broider'd o'er, 
And morsing-horns and scarfs they wore ; 
Each better knee was bared, to aid 
The warriors in the escalade ; 
All, as they march'd, in rugged tongue, 
Songs of Teutonic feuds they sung. 

XIX 

But louder still the clamor grew. 
And louder still the minstrels blew, 
When, from beneath the greenwood tree, 

[84] 



Canto IV] 1 H E LAST M 1 N S 1' R K L 

Rode forth Lord Howard's chivalry ; 

His men-at-arms, with glaive and spear, 

Brought up the battle's glittering rear. 

There many a youthful knight, full keen 

To gain his spurs, in arms was seen ; 

With favor in his crest, or glove. 

Memorial of his ladye-love. 

So rode they forth in fair array. 

Till full their lengthen 'd lines display ; 

Then call'd a halt, and made a stand. 

And cried, '' St. George, for merry England ! " 

XX 

Now every English eye, intent. 
On Branksome's armed towers was bent ; 
So near they were, that they might know 
The straining harsh of each crossbow ; 
On battlement and bartizan 
Gleam'd axe, and spear, and partisan ; 
Falcon and culver, on each tow^er, 
Stood prompt their deadly hail to shower ; 
And flashing armor frequent broke 
From eddying whirls of sable smoke. 
Where upon tower and turret head, 
The seething pitch and molten lead 
Reek'd, like a witch's cauldron red. 
While yet they gaze, the bridges tall, 
The wicket opes, and from the wall 
Rides forth the hoarv Seneschal. 

1 '^5 J 



THE LAY OF [Canto IV 

XXI 
Armed he rode, all save the head, 
His white beard o'er his breastplate spread ; 
Unbroke by age, erect his seat, 
He ruled his eager courser's gait ; 
Forced him, with chasten 'd fire, to prance. 
And, high curvetting, slow advance : 
In sign of truce, his better hand 
Display'd a peeled willow wand ; 
His squire, attending in the rear, 
Bore high a gauntlet on a spear. 
When they espied him riding out. 
Lord Howard and Lord Dacre stout 
Sped to the front of their array. 
To hear what this old knight should say. 

XXII 

'' Ye English warden lords, of you 
Demands the Ladye of Buccleuch, 
Why, 'gainst the truce of Border tide, 
In hostile guise ye dare to ride, 
With Kendal bow, and Gilsland brand, 
And all yon mercenary band. 
Upon the bounds of fair Scotland ? 
My Ladye reads you swith return ; 
And, if but one poor straw you burn, 
Or do our towers so much molest, 
As scare one swallow from her nest, 
St. Mary ! but we '11 light a brand 
Shall warm your hearths in Cumberland." 
[86] 



Canto IV] THE LAST MINSTREL 

XXIII 
A wrathful man was Dacre's lord, 
But calmer Howard took the word : 
*' May 't please thy Dame, Sir Seneschal, 
, To seek the castle's outward wall, 
Our pursuivant-at-arms shall show 
Both why we came, and when we go." 
The message sped, the noble Dame 
To the wall's outward circle came ; 
Each chief around lean'd on his spear, 
To see the pursuivant appear. 
All in Lord Howard's livery dress 'd, 
The lion argent deck'd his breast ; 
He led a boy of blooming hue — 
O sight to meet a mother's view ! 
It was the heir of great Buccleuch. 
Obeisance meet the herald made, 
And thus his master's will he said. 

XXIV 
'' It irks, high Dame, my noble Lords, 
'Gainst ladyc fair to draw their swords ; 
But yet they may not tamely see, 
All througli the Western Wardenry, 
Your law-conlc'iniiing kinsmen rick-, 
And burn and spoil (he r)()r(K'r-si(k^ ; 
And ill beseems noui" lank and birth 
To make \()iir lowers a llenuMis lii (h. 
We claim from ihee William ol 1 )el(>raiiu', 
Tli;il lie ina\' snlTer ni;ireh Ireiison i);iin. 



THE LAY OF [Canto IV 

It was but last St. Cuthbert's even 
He prick 'd to Stapelton on Leven, 
Harried the lands of Richard Musgrave, 
And slew his brother by dint of glaive. 
Then, since a lone and widow'd Dame 
These restless riders may not tame, 
Either receive within thy towers 
Two hundred of my master's powers, 
Or straight they sound their warrison, 
And storm and spoil thy garrison : 
And this fair boy, to London led. 
Shall good King Edward's page be bred." 

XXV 

He ceased — and loud the boy did cry. 
And stretched his little arms on high ; 
Implored for aid each well-known face, 
And strove to seek the Dame's embrace. 
A moment changed that Ladye's cheer, 
Gush'd to her eye the unbidden tear ; 
She gazed upon the leaders round, 
And dark and sad each warrior frown'd ; 
Then, deep within her sobbing breast 
She lock'd the struggling sigh to rest ; 
Unalter'd and collected stood, 
And thus replied, in dauntless mood : — 

XXVI 

'' Say to your Lords of high emprise. 
Who war on women and on boys, 
[ 88 ] 



Canto IV] T H E L A S T M I N S T R E L 

That either Wilham of Deloraine 

Will cleanse him, by oath, of march-treason stain, 

Or else he will the combat take 

'Gainst Musgrave, for his honor's sake. 

No knight in Cumberland so good. 

But William may count with him kin and blood. 

Knighthood he took of Douglas' sword, 

When English blood swell'd Ancram's ford ; 

And but Lord Dacre's steed was wight. 

And bare him ably in the flight. 

Himself had seen him dubb'd a knight. 

For the young heir of Branksome's line, 

God be his aid, and God be mine ; 

Through me no friend shall meet his doom ; 

Here, while I live, no foe finds room. 

Then, if thy Lords their purpose urge, 
Take our defiance loud and high ; 

Our slogan is their lyke-wake dirge, 

Our moat, the grave where they shall lie." 

XXVII 

Proud she look'd round, a])plause to claim — 
Then lighten'd Thirlestane's eye of flame ; 

His bugle Wat of Harden blew, 
Bensils and pennons wide were flung, 
To heaven the Border slogan rung, 

"St. Mary for the young Huceleuch ! " 
The r^nglish war-cry answer'd wide. 

And forward bent each southern spear; 

L «9 J 



THE LAY OF [Canto IV 

Each Kendal archer made a stride, 

And drew the bowstring to his ear ; 
Each minstrel's war-note loud was blo\Mi ; — 
But, ere a gi*ay-goose shaft had flown, 
A horseman gallop 'd from the rear. 

XXVIII 

" Ah 1 noble Lords 1 " he breathless said, 

" What ti"eason has your march betrav'd ? 

What make you here, from aid so far, 

Before you walls, around you war ? 

Your foemen triumph in the thought. 

That in the toils the lion 's caught. 

Already on dark Ruberslaw 

The Douglas holds his weapon-schaw ; 

The lances, wa\'ing in his train, 

Clothe the dun heath like aummn grain ; 

And on the Liddel's northern strand, 

To bar retreat to Cumberland, 

Lord ]\Iaxwell ranks his mern'-men good. 

Beneath the eagle and the rood ; 

And Jedwood, Eske, and Teviotdale 
Have to proud Angus come ; 

And all the ]\Ierse and Lauderdale 
Have risen with haught}' Home. 

An exile from Xorthumberland, 

In Liddesdale I 've wander'd long ; 

But still mv heart was \\ith mem' Ens^land, 
And cannot brook my country's wTong ; 

[90] 



Canto IV] THE LAST MINSTREL 

And hard I 've spurr'd all night, to show 
The mustering of the coming foe." — 

XXIX 

'' And let them come ! " fierce Dacre cried ; 
'' For soon yon crest, my father's pride, 
That swept the shores of Judah's sea. 
And waved in gales of Galilee, 
From Branksome's highest towers displayed. 
Shall mock the rescue's lingering aid ! — 
Level each harquebuss on row ; 
Draw, merry archers, draw the bow ; 
Up, bill-men, to the walls, and cry, 
Dacre for England, win or die !" — 

XXX 

''Yet hear," quoth How^ard, ''calmly hear. 

Nor deem my words the words of fear : 

For who, in field or foray slack, 

Saw the blanche lion e'er fall back ? 

But thus to risk our l^order llower 

In strife against a kingdom's power, 

Ten thousand Scots 'gainst thousands three, 

Certes, were desperate policy. 

Nay, take the terms the Lach'e ma(k\ 

Vac conscious of the acKancing aid : 

Let Musgrave meet fierce Dcloraine 

In single figlit, and, if he gain, 

I 0' I 



THE LAY OF [Canto IV 

He gains for us ; but if he 's cross'd, 
'T is but a single warrior lost : 
The rest, retreating as they came, 
Avoid defeat, and death, and shame." 

XXXI 

111 could the haughty Dacre brook 
His brother Warden's sage rebuke ; 
And yet his forward step he stayed, 
And slow and sullenly obey'd. 
But ne'er again the Border side 
Did these two lords in friendship ride ; 
And this slight discontent, men say. 
Cost blood upon another day. 

XXXII 

The pursuivant-at-arms again 

Before the castle took his stand ; 
His trumpet call'd, with parleying strain, 

The leaders of the Scottish band ; 
And he defied, in Musgrave's right, 
Stout Deloraine to single fight ; 
A gauntlet at their feet he laid. 
And thus the terms of fight he said : — 
'' If in the lists good Musgrave's sword 

Vanquish the Knight of Deloraine, 
Your youthful chieftain, Branksome's Lord, 

Shall hostage for his clan remain : 

[92] 



Canto IV] THE LAST MINSTREL 

If Deloraine foil good Musgrave, 
The boy his hberty shall have. 

Howe'er it falls, the English band, 
Unharming Scots, by Scots unharm'd, 
In peaceful march, like men unarm'd, 

Shall straight retreat to Cumberland." 



XXXIII 

Unconscious of the near relief, 

The proffer pleased each Scottish chief, 

Though much the Ladye sage gainsay'd ; 
For though their hearts were brave and true, 
From Jedwood's recent sack they knew. 

How tardy was the Regent's aid : 
And you may guess the noble Dame 

Durst not the secret prescience own, 
Sprung from the art she might not name, 

By which the coming help was known. 
Closed was the compact, and agreed 
That lists should be inclosed with si)ced, 

Beneath the castle, on a lawn : 
They fix'd the morrow for the strife. 
On foot, with Scottish axe and knife, 

At the fourth hour from \)cc\) of dawn ; 
When Deloraine, from sickness \vcci\. 
Or else a champion in liis stead, 
Slioukl for liimseH' and chieftain stand. 
Against stout I\Iiisgra\'e, hand to hand. 

i 'V. I 



THE LAY OF [Caxto IV 

XXXIV 

I know right well, that, in their lay, 
Full many minstrels sing and say. 

Such combat should be made on horse, 
On foaming steed, in full career, 
With brand to aid, when as the spear 

Should shiver in the course : 
But he, the jovial Harper, taught 
i\Ie, yet a youth, how it was fought, 

In guise which now I say ; 
He knew each ordinance and clause 
Of Black Lord Archibald's battle laws. 

In the old Douglas' day. 
He brook'd not, he, that scoffing tongue 
Should tax his minstrelsy with \^Tong, 

Or call his song untrue : 
For this, when they the goblet plied, 
And such rude taunt had chafed his pride. 

The Bard of Reull he slew. 
On Teviot's side, in fight they stood. 
And tuneful hands were stain 'd with blood ; 
Where still the thorn's white branches wave, 
Memorial o'er his rival's grave. 

XXXV 

Why should I tell the rigid doom, 
That dragg'd my master to his tomb ; 

How Ousenam's maidens tore their hair, 
\Wpt till their eyes were dead and dim, 

[94] 




^ 



H 

O 



THE LAY OF [Canto IV 

And wrung their hands for love of him, 

Who died at Jedwood Air ? 
He died ! — his scholars, one by one, 
To the cold silent grave are gone ; 
And I, alas ! survive alone. 
To muse o'er rivalries of yore. 
And grieve that I shall hear no more 
The strains, with envy heard before ; 
For, with my minstrel brethren fled. 
My jealousy of song is dead. 

He paused : the listening dames again 

Applaud the hoary Minstrel's strain. 

With many a word of kindly cheer, — 

In pity half, and half sincere, — 

Marveird the Duchess how so well 

His legendar)^ song could tell — 

Of ancient deeds, so long forgot ; 

Of feuds, whose memory was not ; 

Of forests, now laid waste and bare ; 

Of towers, which harbor now the hare ; 

Of manners, long since changed and gone ; 

Of chiefs, who under their gray stone 

So long had slept, that fickle Fame 

.Had blotted from her rolls their name. 

And twined round some new minion's head 

The fading wreath for which they bled ; 

In sooth, 'twas strange, this old man's verse 

Could call them from their marble hearse. 

[96] 



Canto IV] THE LAST MINSTREL 

The Harper smiled, well-pleased ; for ne'er 
Was flattery lost on poet's ear : 
A simple race ! they waste their toil 
For the vain tribute of a smile ; 
E'en when in age their flame expires, 
Her dulcet breath can fan its fires : 
Their drooping fancy wakes at praise, 
And strives to trim the short-lived blaze. 

Smiled then, well-pleased, the Aged Man^ 
And thus his tale continued ran. 



<)7 



OUTLINE OF CANTO FIFTH 

The minstrel in the opening stanzas bewails the passing 
of his kind, and then relates how the reenforcements are 
informed of the truce. All the forces, both friend and foe, 
accept the hospitality^ of Branksome Castle, and that night 
hold a late revel. Margaret, the center of much knightly 
attention, withdraws quietly to her room before the feast 
is over. She wakens early from a restless sleep, and to her 
astonishment sees her lover in the court}^ard below. He is 
disguised, by means of the dwarf's craft, and finds his way 
to her tower without being recognized. 

The next day, while the clansmen are disputing as to 
who shall fight for the disabled Deloraine, someone, appar- 
ently Deloraine himself, appears in full armor, and the 
combat is begun. The English champion, Musgrave, is 
slain, and it is at once revealed that the victorious knight 
is Margaret's lover. Lord Cranstoun, for the real William 
of Deloraine, ghastly and disheveled from his illness, rushes 
into the lists and mourns that his worthy foe lies dead. In 
the meantime. Lord Cranstoun restores to the mistress 
of Branksome her son, and is at length received by her as 
her daughter's suitor. She learns of the dw^arf's mischief- 
making, and realizing how much harm had resulted from 
his reading of the mystic book, she determines to have it 
returned to its proper place. The English, mourning over 
the slain Musgrave, take their departure. 



98] 










CANTO FIFTH 




[ALL it not vain : — they do not err, 
Who say, that when the Poet dies, 
Mute Nature mourns her worshipper, 
And celebrates his obsequies : 
Who say, tall cliff, and cavern lone, 
For the departed l^ard make moan ; 
That mountains weep in crystal rill ; 
That flowers in tears of balm distil ; 
Through his loved groves that breezes sigh, 
And oaks, in deeper groan, reply ; 
And rivers teach their rushing wave 
1\) murmur dirges round his gra\e. 



11 

Not llial, in sooth, o'er mortal urn 
Those things inanimaU^ ean mourn 



99 



THE LAY OF [Canto V 

But that the stream, the wood, the gale, 

Is vocal with the plaintive wail 

Of those, who, else forgotten long. 

Lived in the poet's faithful song. 

And, with the poet's parting breath, 

Whose memory feels a second death. 

The Maid's pale shade, who wails her lot, 

That love, true love, should be forgot, 

From rose and hawthorn shakes the tear 

Upon the gentle Minstrel's bier : 

The phantom Knight, his glory fled, 

Mourns o'er the field he heap'd with dead ; 

Mounts the wild blast that sweeps amain, 

And shrieks along the battle-plain : 

The Chief, whose antique crownlet long 

Still sparkled in the feudal song. 

Now, from the mountain's misty throne, 

Sees, in the thanedom once his own. 

His ashes undistinguish'd lie. 

His place, his power, his memory die : 

His groans the lonely caverns fill. 

His tears of rage impel the rill : 

All mourn the Minstrel's harp unstrung. 

Their name unknown, their praise unsung. 

Ill 

Scarcely the hot assault was staid. 

The terms of truce were scarcely made. 

When they could spy, from Branksome's towers, 

[ loo ] 



Canto V] THE LAST MINSTREL 

The advancing march of martial powers. 

Thick clouds of dust afar appcar'd, 

And trampling steeds were faintly heard ; 

Bright spears, above the columns dun, 

Glanced momentary to the sun ; 

And feudal banners fair display'd 

The bands that moved to Branksome's aid. 

IV 

Vails not to tell each hardy clan, 

From the fair Middle Marches came ; 
The Bloody Heart blazed in the van. 

Announcing Douglas, dreaded name ! 
Vails not to tell what steeds did spurn, 
Where the Seven Spears of Wedderburne 

Their men in battle-order set ; 
And Swinton laid the lance in rest. 
That tamed of yore the sparkling crest 

Of Clarence's Plantagenet. 
Nor list I say what hundreds more. 
From the rich Merse and Lammcrmore, 
And Tweed's fair borders, to the war, 
Beneath the crest of old Dunbar, 

And Hepburn's mingled banners come, 
Down the steep mountain glittering far, 

And sliouting still, "A Home! a Home!" 

V 

Now squire and knight, from Hranksome sent, 
On many a courteous message went ; 



THE LAY OF [Canto V 

To every chief and lord they paid 

Meet thanks for prompt and powerful aid ; 

And told them, — how a truce was made, 

And how a day of fight was ta'en 

'Twixt Musgrave and stout Deloraine ; 
And how the Ladye pray'd them dear. 

That all would stay the fight to see. 

And deign, in love and courtesy. 
To taste of Branksome cheer. 
Nor, while they bade to feast each Scot, 
Were England's noble Lords forgot. 
Himself, the hoary Seneschal 
Rode forth, in seemly terms to call 
Those gallant foes to Branksome Hall. 
Accepted Howard, than whom knight 
Was never dubb'd, more bold in fight ; 
Nor, when from war and armor free, 
More famed for stately courtesy : 
But angry Dacre rather chose 
In his pavilion to repose. 

VI 

Now, noble Dame, perchance you ask, 
How these two hostile armies met ? 

Deeming it were no easy task 

To keep the truce which here was set ; 

Where martial spirits, all on fire. 

Breathed only blood and mortal ire. — 

By mutual inroads, mutual blows, 
[ I02 ] 



Canto V] THE LAST MINSTREL 

By habit, and by nation, foes, 

They met on Teviot's strand ; 
They met and sate them mingled down, 
Without a threat, without a frown. 

As brothers meet in foreign land : 
The hands, the spear that lately grasp'd, 
Still in the mailed gauntlet clasp'd. 

Were interchanged in greeting dear ; 
Visors were raised, and faces show^n, 
And many a friend, to friend made known. 

Partook of social cheer. 
Some drove the jolly bowl about ; 

With dice and draughts some chased the day ; 
And some, with many a merry shout, 
In riot, revelry, and rout. 

Pursued the foot-ball play. 

VII 

Yet, be it known, had bugles blown, 

Or sign of war been seen, 
Those bands, so fair together ranged. 
Those hands, so frankl)' interchanged, 

Had dyed with gore the green : 
The merry shout by Teviot-side 
Had sunk in war-cries wild and wide, 

And in the groan of dealli ; 
And whingers, now in fricMidsliij) baiv, 
1'he social meal to part and share, 

Had found a bloody sheath. 

[ '03 J 



THE LAY OF [Canto V 

'Twixt truce and war, such sudden change 
Was not infrequent, nor held strange. 

In the old Border-day : 
But yet on Branksome's towers and town, 
In peaceful merriment, sunk down 

The sun's declining ray. 

VIII 

The blithesome signs of wassel gay 
Decay'd not with the dying day ; 
Soon through the latticed windows tall 
Of lofty Branksome's lordly hall. 
Divided square by shafts of stone, 
Huge flakes of ruddy lustre shone ; 
Nor less the gilded rafters rang 
With merry harp and beakers' clang : 

And frequent, on the darkening plain, 
Loud hollo, whoop, or w^histle ran, 

As bands, their stragglers to regain. 

Give the shrill watchword of their clan ; 
And revellers o'er their bowls, proclaim 
Douglas or Dacre's conquering name. 

IX 

Less frequent heard, and fainter still. 
At length the various clamors died : 

And you might hear, from Branksome hill, 
No sound but Teviot's rushing tide ; 

Save when the changing sentinel 

The challenge of his watch could tell ; 
[ 104 ] 



Canto V] THE LAST MINSTREL 

And save, where, through the dark profound. 
The clanging axe and hammer's sound 

Rung from the nether lawn ; 
For many a busy hand toil'd there. 
Strong pales to shape, and beams to square, 
The list's dread barriers to prepare 

Against the morrow's dawn. 

X 
Margaret from hall did soon retreat. 

Despite the Dame's reproving eye ; 
Nor mark'd she, as she left her seat. 

Full many a stifled sigh ; 
For many a noble warrior strove 
To win the flower of Teviot's love, 

And many a bold ally. — 
With throbbing head and anxious heart, 
All in her lonely bower apart, 

In broken sleep she lay : 
By times, from silken couch she rose ; 
While yet the banner'd hosts repose. 

She view'd the dawning day : 
Of all the hundreds sunk to rest, 
First woke the loveliest and the best. 

XI 

She gazed upon tlie inner court, 

Which in the tower's tall sliadow la\' ; 

Where coursers' clang, and stamp, and snort. 
Had rung the livelong yesterda\- ; 

L'os 1 



THE LAY OF [Caxto V 

Now still as death ; till stalking slow, — 

The jingling spurs announced his tread, — 
A stately warrior pass'd below ; 

But when he raised his plumed head — 
Blessed Mary ! can it be ? 
Secure, as if in Ousenam bowers, 
He walks through Branksome's hostile towers, 

With fearless step and free. 
She dared not sign, she dared not speak — 
Oh ! if one page's slumbers break. 

His blood the price must pay ! 
Not all the pearls Queen Mary wears, 
Not Margaret's yet more precious tears, 

Shall buy his life a day. 



XII 

Yet was his hazard small ; for well 
You may bethink you of the spell 

Of that sly urchin page ; 
This to his lord he did impart. 
And made him seem, by glamor art, 

A knight from Hermitage. 
Unchallenged thus, the warder's post. 
The court, unchallenged, thus he cross'd. 

For all the vassalage : 
But O ! what magic's quaint disguise 
Could blind fair Margaret's azure eyes ! 

She started from her seat ; 
[io6] 



Canto V] THE LAST MINSTREL 

While with surprise and fear she strove, 
And both could scarcely master love — 
Lord Henry 's at her feet. 

XIII 

Oft have I mused, what purpose bad 
That foul malicious urchin had 

To bring this meeting round ; 
For happy love 's a heavenly sight. 
And by a vile malignant sprite 

In such no joy is found ; 
And oft I 've deem'd, perchance he thought 
Their erring passion might have wrought 

Sorrow, and sin, and shame ; 
And death to Cranstoun's gallant Knight, 
And to the gentle ladye bright. 

Disgrace, and loss of fame. 
But earthly spirit could not tell 
The heart of them that loved so well. 
True love 's the gift which God has given 
To man alone beneath the heaven : 

It is not fantasy's hot fire. 

Whose wishes, soon as granted, Hy ; 

It liveth not in fierce desire, 

With dead desire it doth not die ; 
It is the secret sympathy, 
The silver hnk, the silken lie, 
Which heart to heart, and mind to niiiul. 
In body and in soul can hind. 

I '-7 J 



THE LAV (jF [Canto V 

Now leave we Margaret and her Knight, 
To tell you of the approaching fight. 

XIV 

Their warning blasts the bugles blew. 

The pipe's shrill port aroused each clan ; 

In haste, the deadly strife to \iew, 
The trooping warriors eager ran : 

Thick round the lists their lances stood. 

Like blasted pines in Ettrick wood ; 

To Branksome many a look they threw. 

The combatants' approach to \iew, 

And bandied many a word of boast. 

About the knight each favor'd most. 

XY 

Meantime full anxious was the Dame : 
For now arose disputed claim, 
Of who should fight for Deloraine, 
'Twixt Harden and 'twixt Thirlestane : 

They 'gan to reckon kin and rent, 
And frowning brow on brow was bent ; 

But yet not long the strife — for, lo ! 
Himself, the Knight of Deloraine, 
Strong, as it seem'd, and free from pain. 

In armor sheath *d from top to toe, 
Appeared, and craved the combat due. 
The Dame her charm successful knew. 
And the fierce chiefs their claims withdrew. 
[ io8 ] 



Canto V] THE LAST MINSTREL 

XVI 

When for the Hsts they sought the plain, 
The stately Ladye's silken rein 

Did noble Howard hold ; 
Unarmed by her side he walk'd, 
And much, in courteous phrase, they talk'd 

Of feats of arms of old. 
Costly his garb — his Flemish ruff 
Fell o'er his doublet, shaped of buff. 

With satin slash'd and lined ; 
Tawny his boot, and gold his spur. 
His cloak was all of Poland fur. 

His hose with silver twined ; 
His Bilboa blade, by Marchmen felt. 
Hung in a broad and studded belt ; 
Hence, in rude phrase, the Borderers still 
Call'd noble Howard, Belted Will. 

XVIT 

Behind Lord Howard and the Dame, 
Fair Margaret on her palfrey came. 

Whose footcloth swept the ground : 
White was her wimple, and lier veil, 
And her loose locks a cha[)let pale 

Of whitest roses bound ; 
The lordly Angus, by her side, 
In courtesy to cheer her tried ; 
Without his aid, her hand in \ain 
Had strove to guide her iHoicK'r'cl rein. 

I '<^') 1 



THE LAV OF [Canto V 

He deem'd, she shudder'd at the sight 
Of warriors met for mortal fight ; 
But cause of terror, all unguess'd, 
Was fluttering in her gentle breast, 
When, in their chairs of crimson placed. 
The Dame and she the barriers graced. 

XVIII 

Prize of the field, the young Buccleuch, 
An English knight led forth to view ; 
Scarce rued the boy his present plight. 
So much he long'd to see the fight. 
Within the lists, in knightly pride, 
High Home and haughty Dacre ride ; 
Their leading staffs of steel they wield. 
As marshals of the mortal field ; 
While to each knight their care assign'd 
Like vantage of the sun and wind, 
Then heralds hoarse did loud proclaim, 
In King and Queen, and Warden's name. 

That none, while lasts the strife, 
Should dare, by look, or sign, or word. 
Aid to a champion to afford. 

On peril of his life ; 
And not a breath the silence broke. 
Till thus the alternate Heralds spoke : — 



[no] 



Canto VJ 1' H K L A S I' M I N S T R E L 

XIX 

E?2glish Herald 

'' Here standeth Richard of Musgrave, 

Good knight and true, and ireely born, 
Amends from Deloraine to crave. 

For foul despiteous scathe and scorn. 
He sayeth, that WiUiam of Deloraine 

Is traitor false by Border laws ; 
This with his sword he will maintain, 

So help him God and his good cause ! " 

XX 
Scottish Herald 

*' Here standeth William of Deloraine, 
Good knight and true, of noble strain. 
Who sayeth, that foul treason's stain, 

Since he bore arms, ne'er soil'd his coat ; 
And that, so help him God above ! 
He will on Musgrave's body prove. 
He lies most foully in his throat." — 

Lord J^acre 
'' Forward, brave champions, to the fight ! 
Sound trumpets ! " — 

/jf/'d Home 

— "God defend the right I ' 
Then, Teviot ! liow thine ec^hoes rang, 
When bugie-sound and trumpet-clang 



THE LAY OF [Canto V 

Let loose the martial foes, 
And in mid list, with shield poised high. 
And measured step and wary eye, 

The combatants did close. 

XXI 

111 would it suit your gentle ear. 

Ye lovely listeners, to hear 

How to the axe the helms did sound. 

And blood pour'd down from many a wound ; 

For desperate was the strife and long, 

And either warrior fierce and strong. 

But, were each dame a listening knight, 

I well could tell how warriors fight ! 

For I have seen war's lightning flashing. 

Seen the claymore with bayonet clashing, 

Seen through red blood the war horse dashing. 

And scorn'd, amid the reeling strife. 

To yield a step for death or life. — 

XXII 

'Tis done, 'tis done ! that fatal blow 

Has stretched him on the bloody plain ; 

He strives to rise — Brave Musgrave, no ! 

Thence never shalt thou rise again ! 

He chokes in blood — some friendly hand 

Undo the visor's barred band. 

Unfix the gorget's iron clasp, 

And give him room for life to gasp ! 

[II2] 



Canto V] THE LAST MINSTREL 

O, bootless aid ! — haste, holy Friar, 

Haste, ere the sinner shall expire ! 

Of all his guilt let him be shriven, 

And smooth his path from earth to heaven ! 

XXIII 

In haste the holy Friar sped ; — 
His naked foot was dyed with red. 

As through the lists he ran ; 
Unmindful of the shouts on high. 
That hail'd the conqueror's victory. 

He raised the dying man ; 
Loose waved his silver beard and hair. 
As o'er him he kneel 'd down in prayer ; 
And still the crucifix on high 
He holds before his darkening eye ; 
And still he bends an anxious ear, 
His faltering penitence to hear ; 

Still props him from the bloody sod. 
Still, even when soul and body part, 
Pours ghostly comfort on his heart. 

And bids him trust in (lod ! 
Unheard he prays ; — the death-pang 's o'er ! 
Richard of Musgravc breathes no more. 

XXIV 

As if exhausted in the fight, 
Or musing o'er (he piteous sight, 
The silent vie tor stands ; 



I I 



THE LAY OF [Canto V 

His beaver did he not unclasp, 

Mark'd not the shouts, felt not the grasp 

Of gratul'ating hands. 
When lo ! strange cries of wild surprise, 
Mingled with seeming terror, rise 

Among the Scottish bands ; 
And all, amid the throng' d array, 
In panic haste gave open way 
To a half-naked ghastly man, 
Who downward from the castle ran : 
He cross'd the barriers at a bound. 

And wild and haggard look'd around, 
As dizzy, and in pain ; 

And all, upon the armed ground. 
Knew William of Deloraine ! 
Each ladye sprung from seat with speed ; 
Vaulted each marshal from his steed ; 

'' And who art thou," they cried, 
*' Who hast this battle fought and won ? " — 
His plumed helm was soon undone — 

'' Cranstoun of Teviot-side ! 
For this fair prize I 've fought and won," — 
And to the Ladye led her son. 

XXV 
Full oft the rescued boy she kiss'd, 
And often press'd him to her breast ; 
For, under all her dauntless show. 
Her heart had throbb'd at every blow ; 
Yet not Lord Cranstoun deign 'd she greet, 

["4] 



Canto V] THE LAST MINSTREL 

Though low he kneeled at her feet. 
Me lists not tell what words were made, 
What Douglas, Home, and Howard, said — 

— For Howard was a generous foe — 
And how the clan united pray'd 

The Ladye would the feud forego. 
And deign to bless the nuptial hour 
Of Cranstoun's Lord and Teviot's Flower. 

XXVI 

She look'd to river, look'd to hill. 

Thought on the Spirit's prophecy, 
Then broke her silence stern and still, — 
. '' Not you, but Fate, has vanquish 'd me ; 
Their influence kindly stars may shower 
On Teviot's tide, and Branksome's tower. 

For pride is quell'd, and love is free." — 
She took fair Margaret by the hand. 
Who, breathless, trembling, scarce might stand 

That hand to Cranstoun's lord gave she : — 
'' As I am true to thee and thine, 
Do thou be true to me and mine ! 

This clasp of love our bond shall be ; 
l^\)r this is your betrothing day, 
And all these noble lords shall stay, 

To grace it with their coinpanx." — 

X x \' 1 1 

All as they ]c({ (he listed plain, 
Mucli of the slorx' she did ^i;aiii ; 

I. "5 I 



THE LAY OF [Canto V 

How Cranstoun fought with Deloraine, 

And of his page, and of the Book 

Which from the wounded knight he took ; 

And how he sought her castle high,. 

That morn, by help of gramarye ; 

How, in Sir William's armor dight. 

Stolen by his page, while slept the knight, 

He took on him the single fight. 

But half his tale he left unsaid. 

And linger 'd till he join'd the maid. — 

Cared not the Ladye to betray 

Her mystic arts in view of day ; 

But well she thought, ere midnight came, 

Of that strange page the pride to tame, 

From his foul hands the Book to save. 

And send it back to Michael's grave. — 

Needs not to tell each tender word 

'Twixt Margaret and 'twixt Cranstoun's lord ; 

Nor how she told of former woes. 

And how her bosom fell and rose. 

While he and Musgrave bandied blows. — 

Needs not these lovers' joys to tell : 

One day, fair maids, you '11 know them well. 

XXVIII 

William of Deloraine, some chance 
Had waken'd from his deathlike trance ; 

And taught that, in the listed plain, 
Another, in his arms and shield, 
["6] 



Canto V] THE LAST MINSTREL 

Against fierce Musgrave axe did wield, 

Under the name of Deloraine. 
Hence, to the field, unarm'd, he ran, 
And hence his presence scared the clan. 
Who held him for some fleeting wraith. 
And not a man of blood and breath. 

Not much this new ally he loved. 

Yet, when he saw what hap had proved. 
He greeted him right heartilie ; 
He would not waken old debate, 
For he was void of rancorous hate. 

Though rude, and scant of courtesy ; 
In raids he spilt but seldom blood, 
Unless when men-at-arms withstood. 
Or, as was meet, for deadly feud. 
He ne'er bore grudge for stalwart blow, 
Ta'en in fair fight from gallant foe : 

And so 'twas seen of him, e'en now. 

When on dead Musgrave he look'd down ; 

Grief darken 'd on his rugged brow. 
Though half disguised with a frown ; 
And thus, while sorrow bent his head, 
His foeman's epitaph he made. 

XXIX 

'* Now, -Richard Musgrave, liest (liou hcvcl 

I ween, my deadly enem\' ; 
For, if I slew thy brother dear, 

Thou slew'st a sister's son to nie ; 

I "7 I 



THE LAY OF [Canto V 

And when I lay in dungeon dark, 

Of Naworth Castle, long months three, 
Till ransom'd for a thousand mark, 

Dark Musgrave, it was long of thee. 
And, Musgrave, could our fight be tried, 

And thou wert now alive, as I, 
No mortal man should us divide. 

Till one, or both of us, did die : 
Yet rest thee God ! for well I know 
I ne'er shall find a nobler foe. 
In all the northern counties here. 
Whose word is Snaffle, spur, and spear. 
Thou wert the best to follow gear ! 
'T was pleasure, as we look'd behind. 
To see how thou the chase could'st wind. 
Cheer the dark bloodhound on his way. 
And with the bugle rouse the fray ! 
I 'd give the lands of Deloraine, 
Dark Musgrave were alive again." — 

XXX 

So mourn'd he, till Lord Dacre's band 
Were bowning back to Cumberland. 
They raised brave Musgrave from the field. 
And laid him on his bloody shield ; 
On levell'd lances, four and four. 
By turns, the noble burden bore. 
Before, at times, upon the gale, 
Was heard the Minstrel's plaintive wail ; 
[ii8] 







KMSaWCOMMiMMi 






THE LAY OF [Canto V 

Behind, four priests, in sable stole, 
Sung requiem for the wan"ior's soul : 
Around, the horsemen slowly rode ; 
With trailing pikes the spearmen trode ; 
And thus the gallant knight they bore, 
Through Liddesdale to Leven's shore ; 
Thence to Hohiie Coltrame's lofty nave, 
And laid him in his father's grave. 

The harp's wild notes, though hush'd the song. 

The mimic march of death prolong ; 

Now seems it far, and now a-near, 

Now meets, and now eludes the ear ; 

Now seems some mountain side to sweep, 

Now faintly dies in valley deep ; 

Seems now as if the ^Minstrel's wail, 

Xow the sad requiem, loads the gale ; 

Last, o'er the warrior's closins: sjave, 

Runsr the full choir in choral stave. 

After due pause, they bade him tell. 
Why he, who touch 'd the harp so well, 
Should thus, with ill-rewarded toil. 
Wander a poor and thankless soil. 
When the more generous Southern Land 
Would well requite his skilful hand. 

The Aged Harper, howsoe'er 
His only friend, his harp, was dear, 

[ i^o ] 



Canto V] THE LAST MINSTREL 

Liked not to hear it rank'd so high 
Above his flowing poesy : 
Less Hked he still, that scornful jeer 
Misprised the land he loved so dear ; 
High was the sound, as thus again 
The Bard resumed his minstrel strain 



[.... J 



OUTLINE OF CAXTO SIXTH 

In impassioned verse the minstrel addresses himself to 
Caledonia, his native land. Then comes an account of the 
betrothal of Margaret to Lord Cranstoun and the feast that 
follows. The goblin dwarf is present and again works mis- 
chief by stirring up quarrels among the revelers, to quiet 
which the mistress bids the minstrels ^^ tune their lay." 
First Albert Graeme, then Fitztraver, and last Harold, all 
aged minstrels, entertain the company with their songs. 
While Harold sings, darkness gradually fills the hall. Sud- 
denly thunder and lightning startle them, and the impish 
dwarf is snatched out of their midst and is never seen 
again. In awe and fear each knight makes vows to his 
patron saint, and the mistress renounces once for all '' dark 
magic's aid." The wedding takes place, but this the min- 
strel does not describe. Instead he closes his lay with an 
account of the pilgrimage of the knights to Melrose's holy 
shrine, where mass for the dead is sung. 

The minstrel's tale is ended, but he is no longer a wan- 
derer. Near Newark Castle he is given a humble abiding 
place. 



[122] 







CANTO SIXTH 



r>v\REATHES there the man, with soul so dead, 

D\ Who never to himself hath said, 
^ This is my own, my native land ! 

Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd^ 
As home his footsteps he hath turn'd. 

From wandering on a foreign strand ! 
If such there breathe, go, mark him well ; 
For him no Minstrel raptures swell ; 
High though his titles, proud his nanic, 
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim ; .' 
Despite those titles, power, and pelf. 
The wretch, concentred all in self. 
Living, shall forfeit fair renown, 
And, doubly dying, shall go down 
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung, 
Unwept, unhonor'd, and unsung. 



THE LAY OF [Canto VI 

II 

O Caledonia ! stern and wild, 

Meet nurse for a poetic child ! 

Land of brown heath and shagg}' wood, 

Land of the mountain and the flood, 

Land of my sires ! what miortal hand 

Can e'er untie the filial band. 

That knits me to thy rugged strand ! 

Still, as I view each well-known scene, 

Think what is now, and what hath been. 

Seems as, to me, of all bereft, 

Sole friends thy woods and streams were left ; 

And thus I love them better still, 

Even in extremity of ill. 

By Yarrow's streams still let me stray. 

Though none should guide my feeble way ; 

Still feel the breeze down Ettrick break, 

Although it chill my wither'd cheek ; 

Still lay my head by Teviot Stone, 

Though there, forgotten and alone. 

The Bard may draw his parting groan. 

Ill 

Not scorn'd like me ! to Branksome Hall 
The Minstrels came, at festive call ; 
Trooping they came, from near and far. 
The jovial priests of mirth and war ; 
Alike for feast and fight prepared, 
Battle and banquet both they shared. 



Canto VI] THE LAST MINSTREL 

Of late, before each martial clan, 

They blew their death-note in the van. 

But now, for every merry mate. 

Rose the portcullis' iron grate ; 

They sound the pipe, they strike the string, 

They dance, they revel, and they sing, 

Till the rude turrets shake and ring. 

IV 

Me lists not at this tide declare 

The splendor of the spousal rite, 
How muster'd in the chapel fair 

Both maid and matron, squire and knight ; 
Me lists not tell of owches rare, 
Of mantles green, and braided hair. 
And kirtles furr'd with miniver ; 
What plumage waved the altar round, 
How spurs and ringing chainlets sound : 
And hard it were for bard to speak 
The changeful hue of Margaret's cheek ; 
That lovely hue which comes and flies, 
As awe and shame alternate rise ! 

V 
Some bards have sung, the Ladye high 
Chapel or altar came not nigh ; 
Nor durst the rites of spousal grace, 
So much she fear'd each holy place. 
V'dhc slanders these : — I trust right well 
She wrought not by forbidden spell ; 



THE LAY OF [Canto VI 

For mighty words and signs have power 
O'er sprites in planetary hour : 
Yet scarce I praise their venturous part, 
Who tamper with such dangerous art. 

But this for faithful truth I say, 
The Ladye by the altar stood, 

Of sable velvet her array. 

And on her head a crimson hood, 
With pearls embroidered and entwined. 
Guarded with gold, with ermine lined ; 
A merlin sat upon her wrist, 
Held by a leash of silken twist. 

VI 

The spousal rites were ended soon : 
'T was now the merry hour of noon. 
And in the lofty arched hall 
W^as spread the gorgeous festival. 
Steward and squire, with heedful haste, 
Marshall'd the rank of every guest ; 
Pages, with ready blade, were there. 
The mighty meal to car\'e and share : 
O'er capon, heron-shew, and crane. 
And princely peacock's gilded train, 
And o'er the boar-head, garnish 'd brave. 
And cygnet from St. Mar}^'s wave ; 
O'er ptarmigan and venison 
The priest had spoke his benison. 
Then rose the riot and the din, 
[126] 



Canto VI] THE LAST MINSTREL 

Above, beneath, without, within ! 

For, from the lofty balcony. 

Rung trumpet, shalm, and psaltery : 

Their clanging bowls old warriors quaff'd, 

Loudly they spoke, and loudly laugh'd ; 

Whisper'd young knights, in tone more mild. 

To ladies fair, and ladies smiled. 

The hooded hawks, high perch'd on beam, 

The clamor join'd with whistling scream, 

And fiapp'd their wings, and shook their bells. 

In concert with the stag-hounds' yells. 

Round go the flasks of ruddy wine. 

From Bordeaux, Orleans, or the Rhine ; 

Their tasks the busy sewers ply. 

And all is mirth and revelry. 

VII 

The Goblin Page, omitting still 

No opportunity of ill, 

Strove now, while blood ran hot and high, 

To rouse debate and jealousy ; 

Till Conrad, Lord of Wolfenstein, 

By nature fierce, and warm with wine, 

And now in humor highly cross'd, 

About some steeds his band liad k\st, 

High words to words succcccHng still, 

wSmote, with Iiis gauntlet, stout 1 iuiithill ; 

A liot and hardy RutluM-ford, 

Whom men called Dickon 1 )ra\\-the-s\voril. 

[■-'7 J 



THE LAY OF [Canto VI 

He took it on the page's saye, 

Hunthill had driven these steeds away. 

Then Howard, Home, and Douglas rose, 

The kindUng discord to compose : 

Stern Rutherford right Httle said. 

But bit his glove and shook his head. — 

A fortnight thence, in Ingle wood. 

Stout Conrad, cold, and drench'd in blood. 

His bosom gored with many a wound. 

Was by a woodman's lyme-dog found ; 

Unknown the manner of his death. 

Gone was his brand, both sword and sheath ; 

But ever from that time, 't was said, 

That Dickon wore a Cologne blade. 

VIII 

The dwarf, who fear'd his master's eye 
Might his foul treachery espie. 
Now sought the castle buttery, 
Where many a yeoman, bold and free, 
Revell'd as merrily and well 
As those that sat in lordly selle. 
Watt Tinlinn, there, did frankly raise 
The pledge to Arthur Fire-the-Braes ; 
And he, as by his breeding bound. 
To Howard's merry-men sent it round. 
To quit them, on the English side. 
Red Roland Forster loudly cried, 
''A deep carouse to yon fair bride !" — 

[128] 



Canto VI] THE LAST MINSTREL 

At every pledge, from vat and pail, 
Foam'd forth in floods the nut-brown ale ; 
While shout the riders every one ; 
Such day of mirth ne'er cheer'd their clan, 
Since old Buccleuch the name did gain, 
When in the cleuch the buck was ta'en. 

IX 

The wily page, with vengeful thought, 
Remember'd him of Tinlinn's yew, 
And swore, it should be dearly bought 

That ever he the arrow drew. 
First, he the yeoman did molest, 
With bitter gibe and taunting jest; 
Told, how he fled at Solway strife. 
And how Mob Armstrong cheer'd his wife ; 
Then, shunning still his powerful arm. 
At unawares he wrought him harm ; 
From trencher stole his choicest cheer, 
Dash'cl from his lips his can of beer ; 
Then, to his knee sly creeping on, 
With bodkin pierced him to the bone : 
The venom'd wound, and festering joint, 
Long after rued that bodkin's point. 
The startled yeoman swore and si)urird. 
And board and flagons overturn 'd. 
Riot and clamor wild began ; 
l^ack to the hall the Ihxhin ran ; 
Took in a darkling nook his post, 
And grinn'cl and nuilter'd, "Lost! lost! lost!' 

I '--9 I 



THE LAY OF [Canto VI 

X 

By this, the Dame, lest further fray 

Should mar the concord of the da\-, 

Had bid the minstrels time their lay. 

And first stept forth old Albert Graeme, 

The ^Minstrel of that ancient name : 

Was none who struck the harp so well, 

Within the Land Debateable ; 

Well friended, too, his hardy kin, 

Whoever lost, were sure to win ; 

They sought the beeves that made their broth, 

In Scotland and in England both. 

In homely guise, as nature bade. 

His simple song the Borderer said. 

XI 

Albcti Gn^me 

It was an En2:lish ladve bright, 

(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,) 

And she would marry a Scottish knight, 
For Love will still be lord of all. 

Blithelv thev saw the risinsr sun, 

When he shone fair on Carlisle wall ; 

But they were sad ere day was done, 
Thousrh Love was still the lord of all. 

Her sire gave brooch and jewel fine. 

Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall ; 

[130] 



THE LAY OF [Canto VI 

Her brother gave but a flask of wine, 
For ire that Love was lord of all. 



For she had lands, both meadow and lea. 
Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall. 

And he swore her death, ere he would see 
A Scottish knight the lord of all ! 

XII 

That wine she had not tasted well, 

(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,) 

When dead, in her true love's arms, she fell, 
For Love was still the lord of all ! 

He pierced her brother to the heart. 

Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall : — 
So perish all would true love part, 

That Love may still be lord of all ! 

And then he took the cross divine, 

(Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,) 
And died for her sake in Palestine, 

So Love was still the lord of all. 

Now all ye lovers, that faithful prove, 
(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,) 

Pray for their souls who died for love. 
For Love shall still be lord of all ! 

[ 132 ] 



Canto VI] THE LAST MINSTREL 

XIII 

As ended Albert's simple lay, 

Arose a bard of loftier port ; 
For sonnet, rhyme, and roundelay, 

Renown'd in haughty Henry's court : 
There rung thy harp, unrivall'd long, 
Fitztraver of the silver song ! 

The gentle Surrey loved his lyre — 
Who has not heard of Surrey's fame ? 

His was the hero's soul of fire, 

And his the bard's immortal name, 
And his was love, exalted high 
By all the glow of chivalry. 

XIV 

They sought, together, climes afar, 

And oft, within some olive grove. 
When even came with twinkling star. 

They sung of Surrey's absent love. 
His step the Italian peasant stay'd. 

And decm'd, that spirits from on higii, 
Round where some hermit saint was laid, 

Were breathing heavenly mclod}' ; 
So sweet did harp and voice combine, 
To praise the name of Geraldine. 

XV 

l^^itztraver ! O what t(Migue may sav 
The pangs th\' faithful bosom knew, 



THE LAY OF [Canto VI 

When Surrey, of the deathless lav, 

Ungrateful Tudor's sentence slew ? 
Regardless of the tyrant's frown, 
His harp call'd wrath and vengeance down. 
He left, for Xaworth's iron towers, 
Windsor's green glades, and courtly bowers, 
And faithful to his patron's name. 
With Howard still Fitztraver came ; 
Lord William's foremost favorite he, 
And chief of all his minstrelsy. 

XVI 

Fitztraver 

'T was All-soul's eve, and Surrey's heart beat high ; 

He heard the midnight bell with anxious start, 
\\'hich told the mystic hour, approaching nigh. 

When wise Cornelius promised, by his art. 
To show to him the ladye of his heart. 

Albeit betAvixt them roar'd the ocean grim ; 
Yet so the sage had hight to play his part. 

That he should see her form in life and limb. 
And mark, if still she loved, and still she thought of him. 

XVII 

Dark was the vaulted room of gramars^e. 

To which the wizard led the gallant Knight, 

Save that before a mirror, huge and high, 
A hallow'd taper shed a glimmering light 

On mystic implements of magic might ; 

[134] 



Canto VI] THE LAST MINSTREL 

On cross,. and character, and talisman, 
And almagest, and altar, nothing bright : 
For fitful was the lustre, pale and wan, 
As watchlight by the bed of some departing man. 

XVIII 

But soon, within that mirror huge and high. 

Was seen a self-emitted light to gleam ; 
And forms upon its breast the Earl 'gan spy 

Cloudy and indistinct, as feverish dream ; 
Till, slow arranging, and defined, they seem 

To form a lordly and a lofty room, 
Part lighted by a lamp with silver beam. 

Placed by a couch of Agra's silken loom, 
And part by moonshine pale, and part was hid in gloom. 

XIX 

Pair all the pageant — but how passing fair 

The slender form, which lay on couch of Ind ! 
O'er her white bosom stray'd her hazel hair, 

Pale her dear cheek, as if for love she pined ; 
All in her night-robe loose she lay reclined, 

And, pensive, read from tablet cburnine, 
Some strain that seem'd her inmost soul to i\m\ : — 

That favor'd strain was Surrey's raj^tured line, 
That fair and lovely form, the Lady (icralclinc. 

XX 

Slow roll'd the clouds upon the lovely form, 
And svve|)t tlie goodly vision all a\va\' — 

[ -35 J 



THE LAY OF [Canto \T 

So royal envy roll'd the murky storm 
O'er my beloved Master's glorious day. 

Thou jealous, ruthless tyrant ! Heaven repay 
On thee, and on thy children's latest line, 

The wild caprice of thy despotic sway. 

The gory bridal bed, the plunder'd shrine, 
The murder'd Surrey's blood, the tears of Geraldine ! 

XXI 

Both Scots, and Southern chiefs, prolong 
Applauses of Fitztraver's song ; 
These hated Henry's name as death. 
And those still held the ancient faith. — 
Then, from his seat, with lofty air. 
Rose Harold, bard of brave St. Clair ; 
St. Clair, who, feasting high at Home, 
Had with that lord to battle come. 
Harold was born where restless seas 
Howl round the storm-swept Orcades ; 
Where erst St. Clairs held princely sway 
O'er isle and islet, strait and bay ; — 
Still nods their palace to its fall. 
Thy pride and sorrow, fair Kirkwall ! — 
Thence oft he mark'd fierce Pentland rave^, 
As if grim Odin rode her wave ; 
And watch'd, the whilst, with visage pale, 
And throbbing heart, the struggling sail ; 
For all of wonderful and wild 
Had rapture for the lonely child. 

[136] 



Canto VIJ THE LAST MINSTREL 

XXII 

And much of wild and wonderful 

In these rude isles might fancy cull ; 

For thither came, in times afar, 

Stern Lochlin's sons of roving war. 

The Norsemen, train'd to spoil and blood, 

Skill'd to prepare the raven's food ; 

Kings of the main their leaders brave, 

Their barks the dragons of the wave. 

And there, in many a stormy vale. 

The Scald had told his wondrous tale ; 

And many a Runic column high 

Had witness'd grim idolatry. 

And thus had Harold, in his youth, 

Learn'd many a Saga's rhyme uncouth, — 

Of that Sea-Snake, tremendous curl'd, 

Whose monstrous circle girds the world ; 

Of those dread Maids, whose hideous yell 

Maddens the battle's bloody swell ; 

Of Chiefs, who, guided through the gloom 

By the pale death-lights of the tomb, 

Ransack'd the graves of warriors old, 

Their falchions wrench 'd from corpses' hold, 

Waked the deaf tomb with war's alarms, 

And bade the dead arise to arms ! 

With war and wonder all on flame, 

To Roslin's bowers young Harold came, 

Where, by sweet glen and greenwood trei\ 

He learn'd a milder minstrelsy; 

L '37 J 



THE LAY OF [Canto VI 

Yet something of the Northern spell 
Mix'd with the softer numbers well. 

XXIII 

Harold 

O listen, listen, ladies gay ! 

No haughty feat of arms I tell ; 
Soft is the note, and sad the lay. 

That mourns the lovely Rosabelle. 

— '' Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant crew ! 

And, gentle ladye, deign to stay ! 
Rest thee in Castle Ravensheuch, 

Nor tempt the stormy firth to-day. 

'' The blackening wave is edged with white ; 

To inch and rock the sea-mews fly ; 
The fishers have heard the Water-Sprite, 

Whose screams forbode that wreck is nigh. 

'' Last night the gifted Seer did view 
A wet shroud swathed round ladye gay ; 

Then stay thee. Fair, in Ravensheuch : 
Why cross the gloomy firth to-day }'' — 

'' 'T is not because Lord Lindesay's heir 

To-night at Roslin leads the ball, 
But that my ladye-mother there 

Sits lonely in her castle hall. 

[138] 




'^^^'^<-i'^V-- 



--'^^ ^cis;^ ^..:^, ;•,... -i-^ .^I^^.- .* 









AW I" II () k N Dl'iN 



THE LAY OF [Canto VI 

'' T is not because the ring they ride, 
And Lindesay at the ring rides well, 

But that my sire the wine will chide. 
If 'tis not fill'd by Rosabelle." — 

O'er Roslin all that dreary night, 

A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam ; 

'T was broader than the watch-fire's light, 
And redder than the bright moon-beam. 

It glared on Roslin's castled rock, 
It ruddied all the copse-wood glen ; 

' T was seen from Dryden's groves of oak, 
And seen from cavern'd Hawthornden. 

Seem'd all on fire that chapel proud, 
Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffin'd lie, 

Each Baron, for a sable shroud. 
Sheathed in his iron panoply. 

Seem'd all on fire within, around, 

Deep sacristy and altar's pale ; 
Shone every pillar foliage-bound, 

And glimmer'd all the dead men's mail. 

Blazed battlement and pinnet high. 

Blazed every rose-carved buttress fair — 

So still they blaze, when fate is nigh 
The lordly line of high St. Clair. 

[ 140] 



Canto VI] THE LAST MINSTREL 

There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold 
Lie buried within that proud chapelle ; 

Each one the holy vault doth hold — 
But the sea holds lovely Rosabelle ! 

And each St. Clair was buried there, 

With candle, with book, and with knell ; 

But the sea-caves rung, and the wild winds sung, 
The dirge of lovely Rosabelle. 



XXIV 

So sweet was Harold's piteous lay, 

Scarce mark'd the guests the darken'd hall, 
Though, long before the sinking day, 

A wondrous shade involved them all : 
It was not eddying mist or fog, 
Drain'd by the sun from fen or bog ; 

Of no eclipse had sages told ; 
And yet, as it came on apace. 
Each one could scarce his neighbor's face, 

Could scarce his own stretch 'd hand behold. 
A secret horror clicck'd the feast, 
And chill'd the soul of every guest ; 
Even the high Dame stood half aghast, 
She knew some evil on the blast ; 
Hie elvish page fell to the ground, 
And, sluiddciing, nuitler'd, " r\)und ! touiul ! fouiul' 



I |i 



THE LAY O F [Canto VI 

XXV 

Then sudden, through the darken'd air 

A flash of hghtning came ; 
So broad, so bright, so red the glare. 

The castle seemed on flame. 
Glanced every rafter of the hall. 
Glanced every shield upon the wall ; 
Each trophied beam, each sculptured stone. 
Were instant seen, and instant gone ; 
Full through the guests' bedazzled band 
Resistless flash 'd the levin-brand, 
And fill'd the hall with smoldering smoke. 
As on the elvish page it broke. 

It broke, with thunder long and loud, 

Dismay'd the brave, appall'd the proud, — 
From sea to sea the larum rung ; 

On Berwick wall, and at Carlisle withal. 
To arms the startled warders sprung. 
When ended was the dreadful roar. 
The elvish dwarf was seen no more ! 

XXVI 

Some heard a voice in Branksome Hall, 
Some saw a sight, not seen by all ; 
That dreadful voice was heard by some, 
Cry, with loud summons, '' Gvlbin, come ! " 
And on the spot where burst the brand. 

Just where the page had flung him down, 
Some saw an arm, and some a hand. 
And some the waving of a gown. 

[M2] 



Canto VI] THE LAST MINSTREL 

The guests in silence pray'd and shook 
And terror dimm'd each lofty look. 
But none of all the astonish'd train 
Was so dismay'd as Deloraine ; 
His blood did freeze, his brain did burn, 
'Twas fear'd his mind would ne'er return ; 
For he was speechless, ghastly, wan, 
Like him of whom the story ran. 
Who spoke the spectre-hound in Man. 
At length, by fits, he darkly told. 
With broken hint, and shuddering cold - 
That he had seen, right certainly, 
A shape with amice wi'app'd around^ 
With a wrvugJit SpanisJi baldric bound, 

Like pilgrim from beyond the sea ; 
And knew — but how it matter'd not — 
It was the wizard, Michael Scott. 

XXVII 

The anxious crowd, with horror pale. 
All trembling heard the wondrous tale ; 
No sound was made, no word was spoke. 
Till noble Angus silence broke ; 

And he a solemn sacred ]:)light 
Did to St. ])ride of Douglas make. 
That he a pilgrimage would lake 
To Melrose Abbey, for the sake 
or Michael's restless sprite. 
'Dien each, (o ease his (i()iil)K'(l breast, 
To some bless'd saint his piMwrs luldress'd 

I ' i;. I 



THE LAY OF [Canto VI 

Some to St. Modan made their vows, 

Some to St. Mary of the Lowes, 

Some to the Holy Rood of Lisle, 

Some to our Ladye of the Isle ; 

Each did his patron witness make, 

That he such pilgrimage would take. 

And Monks should sing, and bells should toll. 

All for the weal of Michael's soul. 

While vows were ta'en, and prayers w^ere pray'd, 

'Tis said the noble dame, dismay'd. 

Renounced, for aye, dark magic's aid. 

XXVIII 

Nought of the bridal w ill I tell. 
Which after in short space befell ; 
Nor hoW' brave sons and daughters fair 
Bless'd Teviot's Flower, and Cranstoun's heir : 
After such dreadful scene, 't were vain 
To wake the note of mirth again. 
More meet it were to mark the day 

Of penitence and prayer divine. 
When pilgrim-chiefs, in sad array. 

Sought Melrose' holy shrine. 

XXIX 

With naked foot, and sackcloth vest. 
And arms enfolded on his breast. 
Did every pilgrim go ; 

[M4] 



Canto VI] THE LAST MINSTREL 

The standers-by might hear uneath, 
Footstep, or voice, or high-drawn breath. 

Through all the lengthened row : 
No lordly look, nor martial stride. 
Gone was their glory, sunk their pride. 

Forgotten their renown ; 
Silent and slow, like ghosts they glide 
To the high altar's hallow'd side. 

And there they knelt them down : 
Above the suppliant chieftains wave 
The banners of departed brave ; 
Beneath the letter'd stones were laid 
The ashes of their fathers dead ; 
From many a garnish'd niche around, 
Stern saints and tortured martyrs frown'd. 



XXX 

And slow up the dim aisle afar. 
With sable cowl and scapular. 
And snow-white stoles, in order due, 
The holy Fathers, two and two. 

In long procession came ; 
Taper, and host, and bcjok they bare. 
And lioly banner, flourisli'd fair 

With the Redeemer's name. 
Above the prostrate pilgrim band 
The mitred Abbot stretch'd his haiul, 

And bless'd them as they kneel'd ; 

L'-I5J 



THE LAY OF [Canto VI 

With holy cross he sign'd them all, 
And pray'd they might be sage in hall, 

And fortunate in field. 
Then mass was sung, and prayers were said, 
And solemn requiem for the dead ; 
And bells toll'd out their mighty peal. 
For the departed spirit's weal ; 
And ever in the office close 
The hymn of intercession rose ; 
And far the echoing aisles prolong 
The awful burden of the song, — 

Dies irje, dies ilea, 

soevet s.eceum ix favieea ; 
While the pealing organ rung ; 

Were it meet with sacred strain 

To close my lay, so light and vain. 
Thus the holy Fathers sung. 

XXXI 
Hy 11171 for the Dead 

That day of wrath, that dreadful day, 
When heaven and earth shall pass away, 
What power shall be the sinner's stay } 
How shall he meet that dreadful day t 

When, shrivelling like a parched scroll, 
The flaming heavens together roll ; 
When louder yet, and yet more dread, 
Swells the high trump that wakes the dead ! 

[146] 



Canto VI] THE LAST MINSTREL 

Oh ! on that day, that wrathful day, 
When man to judgment wakes from clay, 
Be Thou the trembling sinner's stay, 
Though heaven and earth shall pass away ! 



Hush'd is the harp — the Minstrel gone, 
And did he wander forth alone ? 
Alone, in indigence and age, 
To linger out his pilgrimage ? 
No : — close beneath proud Newark's tower, 
Arose the Minstrel's lowly bower ; 
A simple hut ; but there was seen 
The little garden hedged with green. 
The cheerful hearth, and lattice clean. 
There sheltered wanderers, by the blaze, 
Oft heard the tale of other days ; 
For much he loved to ope his door. 
And give the aid he begg'd before. 
So pass'd the winter's day ; but still, 
When summer smiled on sweet Bowhill, 
And July's eve, with balmy breath, 
Waved the blue-bells on Newark hcatli ; 
When throstles sung in Harehead-shaw, 
And corn was green on Carterliaugli, 
And flourish'd, broad, l^lackandro's oak, 
The aged Harper's soul awoke ! 
Then would he sing achievements high, 
And circumstance of chivahy, 

['47 1 



THE LAY OF [Canto VI 

Till the rapt traveller would stay, 
Forgetful of the closing day ; 
And noble youths, the strain to hear, 
Forsook the huntins: of the deer ; 
And Yarrow, as he roll'd along, 
Bore burden to the ^Minstrel's sonsr. 



[14S] 



NOTES 



INTRODUCTION 

Page 5. Border chivalry : the Border was the land between 
England and Scotland, and was the scene of many bloody 
contests at the time when these two countries were un- 
friendly. The Border was also called the Marches from a 
word meaning ''frontier." 

palfrey : a saddle horse. 

stranger . . . Stuarts'' throne : William 1 1 1 (William of 
Orange). 
Page 6. bigots of the ijvn time : the Puritans, through whose 
influence Parliament in 1656 passed an ordinance declaring 
"that if any . . . persons commonly called fidlers or minstrels, 
shall ... be taken playing, fidling, and making music . . . 
they shall be adjudged and declared to be rogues, vaga- 
bonds, and sturdy beggars." 

Newark : a castle on the Yarrow River, which is a tribu- 
tary of the Tweed. 

Duchess : Anne, Duchess of Buccleuch and Monmouth, 

representative of the ancient Lords of Buccleuch, and widow 

of James, Duke of Monmouth, who was beheaded in 1685. 

pACiK 7. Earl Francis: Francis Scott, Karl of Buccleuch, 

father of the Duchess. 

Earl Walter : grandfather of the Duchess. 

Buccleuch : the house of Buccleuch was an ancient one. 
A cleuch is a narrow glen, and according to tradition a king 
of Scotland pursued a buck into such a glen, where it was 
captured by one of his subjects who, being a man of great 
strength, carried it on his back. This incident gave to the 
family their name (see p. f 29). 

L'49] 



NOTES 

Page 8. King Charles the good : Charles I. 

Holy rood : the royal palace of Edinburgh. It was origi- 
nally an abbe} . 

CANTO FIRST 

• 

Page i i . Brapiksonu tower : this castle was situated on the 
Teviot. three miles above Hawick, and was tlie principal seat 
of the Buccleuch family. 

spell : enchantment. 

wight: person. 

rushy floor : in the sixteenth century, floors were strewed 
with rushes instead of being covered with carpets. 

Teriot-stone : ^' A rough boulder on the RashUegrain 
height on the watershed between the counties of Roxbiu-gh 
and Dumfries : it may have marked a parish border or a 
bridle path. It has long since disappeared." — Flather 
Page 12. knights of fame : the ancient barons of Buccleuch 
retained in their household at Branksome a number of gen- 
tlemen of their own name, who held lands from their chief 
for the mihtar}- ser\-ice of watching and warding his casde. 

squires of name : a squire was next in rank to a knight ; 
the yeoman was subordinate in rank to the squire. 

to bower from stall : to the house from the stable. 

bold Buccleiuh : Lord Buccleuch. the chief of Brank- 
some Castle, who had been killed before the opening of this 
ston\ 

wight : lively (an adjective : see p. 11. where tliis word is 
a noun). 

fed7uood-axe : a long-handled ax, or halbert. used by 
horsemen, probably made at Jedwood (see p. 93 ). 
Page 14. dight : equipped. 

St. George's red cross: the Enghsh banner bore a red 
cross in honor of England's patron saint. 

Threaten Branksome^ s lordly towers: being a Border 
castle, Branksome was often exposed to attacks from the 
English. Scroop, Howard, and Percy, were at different 

[150] 



NOTES 

times wardens of the English borderlands, and Warkworth, 
Naworth, and Carlisle were, respectively, the castles of these 
English w^ardens. 

Loi^d Walter : a Scott of Buccleuch and warden of the 
west borderlands of Scotland. He was killed in the streets 
of Edinburgh by the Kcrrs (or Carrsj, a powerful Border 
family with whom the Scotts had a deadly feud. 

Dujiediii : Edinburgh. 

slogaji : war cry of a Border clan. 
Page i 5. imUual pili^riinage : in the hope of ending the feud 
between the Scotts and the Kerrs, in 1529 a bond was exe- 
cuted between the heads of the clans, binding them to per- 
form reciprocally the four principal pilgrimages of Scotland, 
for the benefit of those of the opposite party who had fallen 
in the quarrel. 

Cessfoi'd : Cessford Castle, near the Cheviot Hills, was 
the ancient baronial residence of the Carr (Kerr) family. 

Et trick : the seat of the Buccleuch family. 
Page 16. Mathouse-biim : <^//r// means *' brook." 

Lo7'd Cra7istoim : the Cranstouns were an ancient Border 
family of Teviotdale, at this time at feud with the Scotts. 

clerk : scholar. 

Bethiuie : the Bethunes were a noble family of French 
origin. 

ai't that none may name : magic. ' 

Padua : a city of Italy, long supposed by the Scottish 
peasants to be the principal school of necromancy. 
Page 17. St. Andreiv's cloiste7-\l hall : the I'nivcrsity of St. 
Andrews. 

no darkening shadow : it was at one time believed that 
students of necromancy must run through a subterranean 
hall, where they were chased by the devil who, if he could 
not overtake them, caught their shadows instead. Those 
who had thus lost their shadows were supposed to prove 
the best magicians. 
iNin-doj^s : dogs kept tied, hence probably bloodhounds. 

L '5' I 



X r» T E S 

Page i8. Fell : wild, high ground. 

Skelfhill-pen : pen means '* peak "' or " mountain/' It 
is the same word as ben. 

monis : the morris, or morrice, dance was a favorite 
May-day pastime. 
Page 19. Arthur^s sUr^sf wain : the Great Dipper. Arthur \s 
probably a corrupt form of A returns^ one of the stars in 
this constellation : 7i'ain is " wagon." 
Page 20. fnoss-trooper .- this was the usual name given to a 
Border marauder. These troopers lived in the mosses, or 
marshes, and rode together in troops. Their thieving inroads 
were called forays. 

Unicorn . . . Crescent . . . Star: the coat of arms of the 
Kerrs contained three unicorns' heads, while that of the 
Scotts bore a star between two crescents. 
Page 21 . William of Deloraine : a kinsman and vassal of the 
house of Buccleuch. 

stark : strong, rugged. 

Solway . . . ntoss : both the Solway sands and the Tanas 
moss were sources of danger, the former because of the 
rapid tide in the Solway Firth and the treacherous quick- 
sands, the latter because it was a desolate marsh through 
which a stream ran furiously among hidden rocks. 

Percy^s best bloodJwunds : bloodhounds were often used 
both by the Scotch and the English to pursue marauders 
across the Border. 

Eske or Lidd^l : rivers of Scodand near the Border. 

matin prime : early morning. 

Cumberland : a county of England bordering on Scot- 
land. 
Page 22. Melrose : the finest abbey in Scotland, now one of 
the most beautiful ruins on the Tweed. It was dedicated to 
Sl Mary, hence the reference in the next line. 

St. Micliaets night : Michaelmas, September 29. 

mighty dead: Michael Scott, a powerful Scottish magi- 
cian. 

[ I5-' ] 



NOTES 

lorn : lost. 

7ieck-ve7'se : wScott says that the neck- verse was ^^ the be- 
ginning of the 51st Psalm, misei'ei'e mei^ etc., anciently 
read by criminals claiming the benefit of clergy." 

Hairibee : the place of execution for the Border marauders 
at Carlisle, England. 
Page 24. bai^bican : an outer defensive work, often a long, 
narrow, covered passageway. 

basnet : a basin-shaped helmet ; a shortened form of 
basiiiet. 

Peel : a Border tower. 

Moat-hilVs mo2i7id : an artificial mound near Hawick, 
which was probably used in ancient times as an assembling 
place for a national council of the adjacent tribes. 

Hazeldea7i : an estate belonging to a family of Scotts. 

Routan way : an old Roman road crossing a part of Rox- 
burghshire. 
Page 25. brand : sword. 

Mi7ito-crags : A group of crags rising above the vale of 
the Teviot. Ba7iihill is said to have been an outlaw who 
inhabited a tower at the base of these crags. A small plat- 
form high among the crags is called Barnhill's bed. 

Do7'ic 7'eed : a much-used expression for poetry about 
rural life. The specific reference here is to a pastoral poem 
written by a member of the Minto family, in which occurs 
the verse, *' Ambition, I said, would soon cure me of love." 

Riddel : the family of Riddel, or Ryedale, long held a 
barony about halfway between Branksome and Melrose. 

Aill : a small stream flowing into the Teviot, now 
usually written Ale. 
Page 26. baidcd : applied to a horse in armor. 

n!(nrJi-nuui : William of Dclorainc is, of course, meant. 
As already explained, the Border was calletl thi- Manhes, 
and hence a Borderer a Marchman. 

I hilidofi : the ancient seat of the Kimts of Cessford. 
A little to tlie northward is the bartlelielil <>n whieh the 

I, '5,> I 



NOTES 

Douglases, assisted by the Kerrs. contended as to which 
should have possession of the boy King James A'. Elliot, 
a retainer of Buccleuch. killed Cessford. one of the Kerrs. 

Home : one of the families of Scous. 

Abbaye : Yx^nQhiox abbey. 
Page 28. ciiffeiv : in Scotland curfew rang at eight o'clock. 

mid flight lauds : midnight sen^ice of the Roman Catholic 
Church. 

CANTO SECOND 

Page 31. shafted oriel : a ^"indow di\-ided by shafts of stone. 
St. David : David the First of Scotland was sainted for 
founding Melrose and other monasteries. 
Page 32. fence : defend (see p. 60. where the word is a noun). 
rood : rod. 

souls" repose : the Buccleuch family conferred many bene- 
fits on Melrose Abbey, in order that masses should be sung 
for their dead. 

aventayle : \-isor of a helmet. 
Page 33. drie : endtire. 
Page 34. patter : repeat rapidly. 
foray : plundering expedition. 
can : know. 

fair Castile : an old kingdom in northern and central 
Spain. 
Page 35. jennet : a small Spanish horse. 

fleur-de-lys . . . quatrefeuilte : the first is a three-parted 
ornament, belonging to the arms of France : the second, a 
four-leaved ornament. 

corbells : the projections from which arches spring. 
Chief of Otterburne : James, Earl of Douglas, slain at 
Otterbume. 

Knight of Liddesdale : William Douglas, slain while 
hunting in Ettrick Forest. 

east oriel : the eastern window of Melrose Abbey, a 
beautiful specimen of pure Gothic architecture. 

[154] 



NOTES 

Page 36. oziei' : willow. 

A ScottisJi nioiiarcJi : Alexander II. 
pay7iim : heathen. 

Michael Scott : a man of great learning and supposed by 
his contemporaries to be a powerful magician. He lived at 
Balwearie in the thirteenth century, but in this poem is 
placed at a later date. 
Page 38. Salamaiica : there were schools for teaching the 
sciences supposed to involve magic in a cavern at Salamanca 
in Spain. 

Hivi listed : he wished. 
Notix-Danie : a cathedral in Paris. 

cleft Eildoii hills : Michael Scott once commanded a 
troublesome spirit to dam the Tweed at Kelso. This was 
accomplished in one night, and the spirit was next ordered 
to divide Eildon hill into three, which was also accomplished 
in one night. 
Page 40. pabnei'^s amice : flowing cloak worn by itinerant 
monks. A palmer was a pilgrim. 

baldric : belt worn over the shoulder. 
Page 41. Book of Mij^ht : book of magic. 
fellest : most powerful, most mighty. 
Page 43. fain : glad. 

Chei'iot : hills between England and Scotland. 
Carter : a mountain among the Cheviot hills. 
Pac;e 45. ween : think. 
Page 46. eld : old age. 

^^ Lost I lost! lost I ^'' one authority says that by this 
cry the dwarf means that he himself is ** lost or stravcd 
from his supernatural master, the wizard Mic^liael Scolt." 
^i^orse : a small shrub. 
l^ACiE 47. litherlie : mischievcnis. 

Jloine and I Irrn/ittftu- : Home C^istle was to the 
northeast and Ilerniilagr C'astK* t«> (he S()ulh\vc\s(. ilu- 
distance between being the greater part oi ihr Icngtli of 
the r.onler. 

I -55 I 



NOTES 

Lowes : the Loch of the Lowes is connected with St. 
Mary's Loch, and it is probable that at an early time they 
formed one large lake. 
Page 48. try sting place : gathering place. 

OILS hat-dove : wood pigeon. 
Page 49. blood of Velez' : Malaga wine. Velez Malaga is a 
Spanish town. 

CANTO THIRD 

Page 52. crarie : the Cranstoun's crest was a crane holding a 

stone in its foot {cr'arie + stoiin). 
Page 53. jack : coat of mail. 

acton: a leathern jacket. w 
Page 54. inly : within. ^ 

sho7't shrift : little time for confession. 
corslet : breastplate. 
Page 55. book-bosorn^d priest : friars were wont to travel from 
Melrose to Jedburgh to perform various religious services, 
carrying the mass-book in their bosoms. 

Bo?de?'er''s . . . gorx : Christian blood could break any 
magic spell. 

spell: incantation. 
glamor : magic illusion. 
sheeting : shepherd's hut. 
Page ^6. so . , » thrive : so might I prosper; a mild oath. 

grarnarye : magic. 
Page ^y. train: entice. 

lurxher : a kind of hunting dog. 

dissolved : it was supposed that running water dispelled 
all illusions and magic. 
vilde : vile. 

lost : notice that the only words put into the mouth of 
the dwarf are " Lost ! lost ! lost ! " and ■ ^' Found ! found ! 
found!" (in Canto VI). (See note on p. 46.) 
Page 58. wilder'' d : bewildered. 

[156] 



NOTES 

Page 59. ban-dog : probably a bloodhound. 
ba7'ret-cap : cloth cap. 
baldric : belt. 
Page 60. kirtle : tunic. 

fence : see note on page 32. 
Page 61. SoiitJiron : Southerner, that is, Englishman. 
Grainercy : thanks. 
wardeiis : guarders of the Border. 

Lord Dacre : Scott says that Lord Dacre was a warden 
of the West Marches, and a man of a hot and obstinate 
character. 
Page 62. tire : headdress. 

bandelier : doleer, a belt for carrying ammunition. 
hackbuteer .. hackb: ' is a heavy musket, and a hack- 
biiteer is a soldier armea with this musket. 
Page 63. salved the splinter : some persons were supposed 
to possess a kind of sympathetic powder with which they 
could cure a wound by merely anointing the weapon which 
inflicted it. 
Page 64. Peii : see note on page 1 8. 

beaco7L : signal fire, giving warning of the approach of an 
enemy. Such fires formed a sort of telegraphic communica- 
tion between the Border and Edinburgh. 

Warder: warden; here the watchman of the lUicclcuch 
Castle. 

ci'esset : a sort of lantern attached to a pole. 
SenescJial : the chief official of the castle. 
Page 65. bale: beacon; one fire gave warning of the enemy, 
two that they were coming indeed, and four that they were 
in great force. 

Priest Jiaughsioi) c : a sn'irc is a dcj)rcssion in the crest 
of a mountain or a hollow between two hills. 

Mount 1^- Ihanksonic : the gathering cry of the SccUts. 
I^A(;i<: 66. nccd-fn : beacon fire. 

tiun : mountain lake. • 

cam : eagle. 

[ -57 I 



NOTES 

caiiii : pile of loose stones, often found on the summit 
of Scottish hills and supposed mostly to be sepulchral 
monuments. 

Soltra and Diunpender Law : two hills ; law means 
mound. 

LotJiian : the division of Scotland which includes Edin- 
burgh. 

bowne : make ready. 
Page 68. keep : dungeon, the strongest part of an old castle. 

ban-dog: here evidently not a bloodhound /'see note on 

p. 17). 

Leven Clans^ or Ty?iedale nie?i : Borderers on a pillaging 
expedition. 

black-mail : protection money exacted by freebooters. 

CANTO FOURTH 

Page 72. Dundee : John Graham, Mscount of Dundee, who 
was slain in the battle of Killicrankie. 

G?'CF??ie : an abbreviation of Graham. 

peeVs 7'2cde battleniejit : the rude fortified platform on 
the top of the tower. 
Page 73. Liddel-side : Watt Tinlinn was a retainer of the 
Buccleuch family, who held for his service a small tower 
on the frontier of Liddesdale. 

Ty7iedale S7iatchers : a class of Border robbers. 

St. Barnab7'ight : St. Barnabas' Day, June 11, which, 
according to the Old Style calendar, was regarded as the 
longest day of the year. 

yew : that is, a bow made of yew. 

Warde7i-Raid : a raid commanded by a warden in person. 

barbica7i : see note on page 24. 

hag : broken ground in a bog. 

Billhope : a place in Liddesdale, famous among hunters 
for buck and roes. 

se7'f : bondman. 

[158] 



NOTES 

morion : steel cap. 

enow : an old form of enough. 
Page 74. six Scottish ells : a Scottish ell was about 37 inches. 
A spear 18 feet long would be quite formidable. 

Belted Will Howard : Lord William Howard, third son 
of the Duke of Norfolk, and warden of the West Marches. 

hackbut-nicn : musketeers (see note on p. 62). 

// had not been burnt ^ etc. : this line is an interesting 
commentary on Border life of that day. 

Scrogg : a thicket of scrubby growth. 

drove 7ny cows : stole his herds. 

Eastern's night : the night before the Fast of Lent. 
Page 76. ken : sight, that is, what they could see. 

Thej^e was saddling.^ etc. : these lines are not in the first 
edition, but appear in that of 183 1, and also in later editions. 

pricking : to prick is to ride fast, to spur onward. 

St. Alary'' s silver wave : St. Mary's Lake (see note on 

p. 47). 

GainescleuglC s dusAy height : a hill not far from Thirle- 
stane Ciistle. 

Thirlestane : when James had assembled his nobility at 
Fala, in the south of Scodand, to invade England, and was 
disappointed at their refusal to follow him, Sir John Scott 
of Thirlestane alone declared himself ready to follow the 
king wherever he should lead. In gratitude for this, James 
granted his family a charter of arms, a border of fleur-de-lis 
with a bundle of spears for a crest and the motto '^ Ready, 
aye ready." 
Jletir-de-liice : the fleur-de-lis, or iris. 
7nossy wave : marsh. 
1'a(;I': "j"]. Murdieston : Walter Scott of Harden, descendant 
of a younger branch of the Pucclcuch family, ])ef()re thev 
acquired the estate of Murdieston. lie was a renowned 
P order freebooter. 
Jlowcr of J 'arroii^ : ]\L'uy, wife of Walter Sci»tt of I huilen. 
Ih'/iliiy : a nioiiiitaiii ill 1 .iddi'sdalc. 

1 '5V I 



XOTES 

Page 78. How thy sires 7l'o;i. etc.: this stanza and the next 
are historically accurate. 

seigtio?'}' : the right which a feudal superior has in the 
property of his tenants. 

Galliafd : gay. gallant Cwhen used as an adjective): a 
gallant young knight (^Yhen used as a noun;. 

he7'iot : a duty or tribute which the tenant or vassal 
rendered to his lord or his superior upon demand. This 
at one time was the best beast or chattel which the tenant 
possessed. 

7}niir : moor, or heath. 
Page 79. cast of Jiaiuks : t^vo hawks released from the hand 
at the same time. 

Beshreiu thy hea?'t : literally, "curse thy heart." but in 
realit)^ the meaning is less formidable. 

vierry7?te?i : retainers : sometimes used of followers of an 
outlaw chief. 

Galliaj'd : see note on page 78. The word seems to be 
used as a noun here. 
Page 80. far C?'aikcross : some editions have "fair Craik- 
cross." 

Pe7itou)i-Ii?ui : a waterfall. 

Haugh : a haugh was a piece of low-lying land by a 
river, sometimes overflowed by the ri\er. 
Page 8 1 . cleugh : cleuch, a ravine : also a precipitous descent 
(see note on p. 7;. 

swair: swire. a depression between hills (see note on 
p. 65;. 

BeJloidoi : Bellenden is situated near the head of Borth- 
wick water, almost in the center of the possessions of the 
Scotts, and hence was frequently used as their place of 
rendezvous and their gathering word. 
Page 82. Rangleburn : a brook which flows into the Ettrick 
near the Buccleuch estate. 

7nickle : much. 

Scott is Ji 7)iile : this is 1.127 of the statute mile. 

[160] 



NOTES 

mnning strea7?t : compare with a similar happening on 
page 57. 

cloth-yard shaft : a shaft the length of a yard of cloth. 
Page 83. keii : discern. 

Almayn : German. 

Light foray ers : lightly armed riders. 

Kendal archers : Kendal, in Westmoreland, England, 
was celebrated both for its green cloth and for its archers. 

bill-men : the bill was a kind of battle-ax. 
Page 84. Irthing : a river of Cumberland, England. 

Acre'^s conquered wall : the family of Dacre derived their 
name from the exploits of one of their ancestors at the siege 
of Acre, in Syria, under Richard Coeur de Lion. 

7nercenaries : foreign troops whose services are bought. 

Ievi7i : lightning. 

vtorsing- horns : powder flasks. 

better knee : right knee. 

escalade : scaling of the walls. 
Page 85. chivalry: horsemen equipped for battle. 

glaive : broadsword. 

To gai?t his spins : to win the order of knighthood. 

favor : a handkerchief, ribbon, glove, or some such article 
given by the lady to her sweetheart to wear and to defend. 

bartizaji : a small overhanging turret. 

pai'tisan : a kind of halberd or long-handled battle-ax. 

Falcofi and ctilver : ancient pieces of artillery. 

seething pitcJi and molten lead : for pouring on the heads 
of the assailants. 
Page 86. better hand : right hand (see note on p. 84). 

a gauntlet on a spear : a glove of mail, the emblem of 
faith among the ancient Borderers. The gauntlet is dis- 
played here as a charge against the I'jiglish of ha\ing 
broken faith in thus making a raid in tinu- of peace. 

Gilsland : a part of Cumberland. 

reads : counsels. 

swith : (juickiy. 



NOTES 

Page Sy. pursuivant-at-aruis : an attendant on the heralds. 

The lioji arge7it : the badge of the Howards — a lion 
embroidered in white. Argeitt literally is " silver." 

irks : distresses. 
fle7nens-fi7'th : a place of refuge for outlaws. 

7narch-treaso}i : the name given to various infringements 
of Border law ; among others, making hostile incursions 
across the Border in time of peace. 
Page '^^. St. Cuthberfs even : the evening before St. Cuth- 
bert's Day, which comes on March 20. 

p7'ick^d : notice how suggestive this word is. It means 
literally pricking one's horse with one's spurs, and a spurred 
horse will always speed to its utmost. 

harried : plundered. 

wa7Tiso7i : note of assault. 

e77ip7'ise : enterprise. 
Page 89. by oath : in doubtful cases the innocence of Border 
criminals was occasionally referred to their own oath. 

Knighthood lie took : the dignity of knighthood could be 
conferred by one who himself possessed it upon any squire 
who was found to merit the honor of chivalry. 

A7icram''s ford : the spot where the Scotch defeated 
the English in 1 544. 

wight : fleet. The meaning here is that if Lord Dacre 
had not been in full flight from the enemy he would have 
witnessed the knighting of WilHam of Deloraine. 

lyke-wake dirge : dirge sung w^hile watching a corpse. 

Pe7isils : little streamers, shaped like swallow-tails, at- 
tached to the lance of a knight. 
Page 90. g7'ay-goose shaft: the arrows were feathered with 
goose feathers. 

Rube7'slaw : a mountain in Scotland, about halfway be- 
tween Branksome Castle and Melrose Abbey. 

weapon-schaw : the military array of a country ; literally, 
a showing of weapons. 

tJie eagle a7id the 7'ood : Lord Maxwell's coat of arms was 
the eagle and the cross. 

[,62] 



NOTES 

Page 91. harquebuss : a hackbut, that is, a kind of heavy 
musket (see note on p. 62). 
on row : in a row. 

blanche lion : the white hon (as on page %']^ the lion 
argent) ; this was the badge of the Howards. 
Page 92. gauntlet : this was the token of challenge, a common 

custom of medieval times. 
Page 93. Jedwood : the same as Jedburgh, Jedworth, or Jed- 
dart. It was sacked and burned at least seven times during 
the wars of this period. 
prescience : knowledge of events yet to take place. 
lists : field of combat. 
Page 94. bra7id : see note on page 25. 

wJie7i as : the meaning is simply " when " ; as helps to 
make the meter right. 

the jovial Harper: '* ratding, roaring Willie," a noted 
Border minstrel. He killed Sweet Milk, called the bard of 
Reull, in a duel, and was executed for the crime at Jedburgh. 
Black Lord Archibald : he drew up a set of laws gov- 
erning Border warfare. 

Ousenani's maidens : Scott, in commenting on this ref- 
erence to the river Ouse, quotes the following from an old 

ballad : 

The lasses of Ousenam water 

Are rugging and riving their hair, 

And all for the sake of Willie, 

His beauty was so fair. 

Page 96. Air : sand bank. 
hearse : tomb. 

CANTO I- 1 1' Til 

l^AGi-: FOG. crownlct : coronet. 
Pa(;e 1 01. Wills not : it avails not. 

Bloody 1 1 cart : emblem of the house of I )()ui;las, assumed 

from the time of good Lord James Douglas, to whose keep-. 

iiig Robert Bruce conunitted his heart to be (.'anied \o the 

1 loly Land. 



NOTES 

Seven Spears of \Vedde7-bunie : the seven sons of Sir 
Da\dd Home of Wedderburne. 

Clare?ice's Plantagenet : at the battle of Beauge in France. 
Thomas, Duke of Clarence, brother of Henry' \ ^ was un- 
horsed by Sir John Swinton. who distinguished him from 
the other knights by a coronet set with precious stones 
which he wore around his helmet. 
Xor list I say : nor do I desire to tell. 
A Ho))ie : the Earls of Home were descendants of the 
Dunbars, ancient Earls of March. Their war oxy was ''A 
Home ! a Home ! '' The Hepbums, a powerful family of 
East Lothian, were usuall}' in close alliance with them. 
Page 102. Xor . . . iL^ere England's noble Lords forgot : 
^^ Notwithstanding the constant wars upon the Borders, and 
the occasional cruelties which marked the mutual inroads, 
the inhabitants on either side do not appear to have re- 
garded each other with that violent and personal animosity 
which might have been expected. On the contrary, Hke the 
outposts of hostile armies, they often canied on something 
resembling friendly intercourse, even in the middle of hos- 
tilities.'' — Berxer, Froissa)i, \o\. H. p. 153 
Page 103. foot-ball play : Scott tells us that ''football was 
anciently a favorite sport all through Scotland, but especially 
upon the Borders.'' 

whingers : poniards, which were used both as knives and 
as daggers. 
Page 104. zuassel : festivity. 

beakers : drinking glasses. 
Page 105. pales: stakes. 

By times : betimes, early. 
Page 106. Ousenam boiL^ers : Lord Cranstoun's estate on the 
banks of the Ouse is meant. 

Hermitage : the Casde of Hermitage was the stronghold 
of the Douglases. 
Page 108. port : Scott explains that this is '* a martial piece 
of music, adapted to the bagpipes." 

[164] 



NOTES 

kin and re7it : family and revenue ; it was evidently by 
these that the combatant was to be chosen to fill William of 
Deloraine's place. 

char7n : it will be remembered (see Canto III, stanza 
XXIII) that the Lady of Branksome had stanched the 
knight's wound '' with a charm." 
Page i 09. Ladye's silke?t rei?i : she is, of course, mounted, 
and the noble Howard walks by her side with his hand on 
her horse's bridle. 

doublet . . . buff: a short leathern jacket ; buff refers to 
the material — a tough skin made, perhaps, from the hide of 
buffalo or wild ox. 

Bilboa blade : a Spanish sword, so called because Bilbao 
in Spain was famous for its manufacture of fine steel. 

footcloth : a richly ornamented cloth reaching to the 
ground, which was placed on the back of a horse. It was 
used chiefly on formal occasions. 

wimple : a plaited kerchief worn over the head and around 
the neck and chin. 
c hap let : wreath. 
Page iio. cause of terro7' : Margaret knows that her lover is 
to fight in William of Deloraine's stead, and she is fearful 
of the outcome. 

barriers : the inclosure where the duel is to take place. 
alternate Heralds : the heralds alternately. 
Pa(;e III. despiteous scatJie : malicious injury. 
Pa(;e 1 1 2. claymore : a large, two-handed sword, used by the 
Highlanders of Scotland. 
gorget : the visor protected the face, and the gorget the neck. 
Page 113. sJirivcn : from shrive^ to ** confess/' 
Page r 14. beaver : the mouthpiece of the helmet. 

deig7i\i she greet : deigned she to greet. 
PACiE 115. Me lists: I care; it pleases me. 
]^agi<: 116. graniarye : magic. 

I'agi-: I I 7. Jti'ctiHii -u'riii/li : si)ettral a|)pLn ilioii uf a living 
person. 



NOTES 

Page i t 8. long of: on account of. 

ii07'thei'?i counties : between the Ouse and Berwick. 

Snaffle^ spiir^ and speai' : the emblems of various Border 
families. These three words sum up well the life of the old- 
time marauder. 

to follow gear : to search for booty. 

bownmg : making ready to go. 
Page i 20. Hobne Colti-ajne" s lofty nave : a church in a vil- 
lage of Cumberland on the Solway Firth. 

a poor and thankless soil : the Borderland. 

CAXTO SIXTH 

Page i 24. Caledoiiia : the Latin name for Scotland, often 
used in poetry. 

Teviot Stojie : see note on page 1 1 . 
Page 125. portcullis: a grating, often of iron, hung in or 
over the gateway of a castle to prevent entrance. 

o'cuc/ies : jewels. 

miniver: ermine. 
Page i 26. 7?iei'lin : sparrow hawk, often carried by ladies of rank. 

Jiero}i-sJie'iu : young heron. 

boar-head : the boar's head and the peacock were dishes 
of feudal splendor. Of the peacock Scott says, " After being 
roasted, it was again decorated with its plumage, and a sponge, 
dipped in Hghted spirits of wine, was placed in its bill." 

cygnet : swan. St. ^Mary's Lake, at the head waters of 
the Yarrow, was noted as a resort for wild swans. 

ptarmigaji : grouse. 
Page 127. shabn : an instrument resembling the clarinet. 

psaltery : a kind of harp. 

hooded hawks : the hawks were hooded until they were 
released. Bells were hung round their necks for the purpose 
of frightening the game. 

sewers : sew was a dish of meat, and a sewer one who 
served this and other food. 

[166] 



NOTES 

Page 128. bit his glove : to bite the thumb or the glove was 
considered a pledge of mortal vengeance. 
lyine-dog : a dog led by a band or string. 
Colog7ie blade : such as Conrad would have worn. 
butteiy : pantry. 

Art/mr Fire-the-braes : one of the Elliots of Liddes- 
dale. 

quit: requite, repay. 
carouse : a full glass. 
Page 129. Buccleuch : see note on page 7. 
Page 130. By this : at this. 

La7id Debateable : Borderland, near the Solway Firth, 
claimed by both England and Scotland. The depredations 
of the Graemes extended to both countries, and neither 
country considered it wise to ask reparation of the other 
for these forays into its territory. 
Page 132. took the cross divine : became a Crusader. 
Page 133. gentle SiuTey : the Earl of Surrey who was be- 
headed by Henry VIII. Scott says that he was '^ unques- 
tionably the most accomplished cavalier of his time ; and his 
sonnets display beauties which would do honor to a more 
polished age." 
Page 134. wise Cornelius: a famous German magician, who 
is said to have shown to Surrey, by his magic art, a vision 
of his lady love, Geraldine. 
JiigJit : promised. 
Page 135. alniagest : a celebrated ancient book containing 
problems in geometry and astrology, drawn uj) by Ptolemy. 
Agi'a : a city in British India. 
ebiirnine : ivory. 
Pac;!-: 136. Orcadcs : Orkney Islands. 

k'ir/ciiUill : built 1)\' ihc Si. (lairs whilr I'arls of Orkney; 
dismantled about \(n^, on arcouni (A being L;anisi)ned 
against the governnuMil. 

rcntliUid : renlland i-'irlh. 

(hi in : king of the gods ol tlu> Norsemen. 

I -^'7 I 



X O T E S 

Page 137. Lochlin : Scandina\-ia. 

SkilVd . . . raven s food : skilled in killing. 

dragons of the wave : according to Scott the Norse bards 
often called ships the serpents of the ocean. 

Scald : Norse bard. 

Runic column : a column with inscription in Runic, or 
Norse characters. 

Sea-Snake : the Snake of the Ocean whose folds surround 
the earth. 

dread Maids : the three maidens, who. according to Norse 
mj^ology, were sent by Odin, the All-Father, to choose 
who were to die in battle. 

Ransack' d the graves : the Xorse warriors were usually 
buried with their weapons. Many of these weapons were of 
great value and tempted plunderers, who. as tradition runs, 
had fierce batdes with the ghosts of the dead. 

Roslins bo^^ers : the casde of Roshn, built by William 
St. Qair, one of whose man}' tides was Baron of Roslin. was 
seven miles southeast of Edinburgh. 
Page 138. Castle RavensJuiuh : a castle belonging to the St. 
Clairs, on a steep crag overlooking the Firth of Forth. 

iiuh: isle. 
Page 140. the ring they ride: a favorite sport which con- 
sisted in taking a ring off a crossbar with a lance. 

Seejnd all on fire : Roslin chap)el is said to app)ear on fire 
at the death of an}' of the St, Qairs. 

iron panoply: the barons of Roslin. the St. Clairs, 
were buried in their armor in a vault beneath the chapel 
floor. 

pinnet : pinnacle. 
Page 141. ^' Found .' found / found J " Until now the only 

speech of the dwarf has been the cry " Lost ! lost ! lost ! '* 
Page 142. le^'in-brand : thunderbolt. 

Gylbin : the dwarf is meant. 
Page 143. spectre-hound : the Mauthe Doog, a black spaniel, 
supposed to haunt Peel Casde in the Isle of Man. 

[168] 



NOTES 

St. Bride of Douglas : the favorite saint of the house of 
Douglas, and of the Earl of Angus in particular. 
Page 145. uneath : scarcely. 
cowl : hood. 

scapula}^ : an ecclesiastical garment, a kind of scarf worn 
over the shoulders. 

stole : a long narrow scarf crossed in front. 
Page i 46. Dies irce^ etc. : the opening lines of an old Latin 
hymn, — ^' Day of wrath, that day shall dissolve the world 
in ashes." 
Page 147. Bowhill : near Newark Castle. 
throstles : thrushes. 

Harehead-shaw : a w^ood not far from Bowhill ; sJiaw 
means ^' thicket." 

Carterhaugh : a plain near Newark. 



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